Leads
by Herr Wozzeck
Summary: A single lead can change everything. So can following one lead over another. A look into what could have been if Scott Shelby was not the Origami Killer and did some genuinely good investigating.
1. Prologue

Hm. So this came to me in the middle of the night. What would happen if Scott Shelby wasn't the Origami Killer? That would be answered here, so let's get started!

As a disclaimer, _Heavy Rain_, it's characters, and it's locations do not belong to me. They belong to David Cage and the guys at Quantic Dream.

Right, with that out of the way, let's get going!

* * *

**_Leads_**

Prologue

Scott Shelby was in a bit of a dilemma. Money was coming in slowly, his apartment was in pretty bad shape, and he was getting very few new cases.

_I should never have left the police force_, he thought briefly. _At least there I had some form of recurring income._

Needless to say, making the shift to a private investigator had never done wonders for Shelby. The pay was slow and days were often empty, but at least he wasn't being held down by rules and forensics. Being a private investigator, he got to take a slightly more hands-on approach. Ever since his father had been shot by burglars at a very young age, he had always had some kind of fascination with working in law enforcement. And on the police force, he got to do just that.

Only problem was, it was stifling. As an investigator, he got to come to more conclusions. And that felt much more rewarding to him in the long run.

But at the same time, he go paid less, and people weren't as willing to come to him with a problem. And that was a little worrisome. Especially with his mother in the hospital with Alzheimers and his brother John blowing all of his money on alcohol.

So it was no surprise when the phone rang that he was eager to pick it up. He looked down at the number and shrugged.

"Scott Shelby, private investigator," said the overweight man. "How may I help you?"

"Hey Scott, it's Carter," said the voice on the other line.

Scott smiled warmly. Lieutenant Carter Blake had always been one of his closest friends on the force. He was a bit reckless and brash, but Scott and Carter got along especially well even if Scott was wary of some of his methods. They chatted every so often when Scott left the force, so feelings between them were quite codial.

But Carter never called Scott directly. Knowing this, Scott felt a bad feeling well up in his mind. All the same, though, he was pleased to talk to Carter.

"Hey, Carter!" greeted Scott. "Odd for you to be calling me!"

"I know, right?" asked the police lieutenant. "How's your work as a private investigator going?"

Scott shrugged at this. "The usual," he said. "Not enough jobs, not enough people hiring me, that sort of thing."

"Right," said Carter. It was obvious he was shifting something on his desk. "Listen, Scott, I know you don't work with the police force anymore, but I think we could use your help with a case I've been assigned on. I don't know if you've heard of the Origami Killer?"

The investigator rose his eyebrow at this. "Of course," said Scott. "He's been a media sensation for two years. I'll admit it's one case I'd really like to tackle, but none of the families have come to me."

"Well, they won't have to come to you," replied the policeman. "I'm going to hire you to help out with the case."

At this, Scott looked down at the phone in surprise. Shifting around so that he would sit in his desk, he looked down at the various manila folders scattered around his desk. "Really?" he asked. "Don't you think you should ask Perry about this first?"

"I already told him," replied Carter without missing a beat. "He told me we could use all the help we could get, especially with the media hounding down on this killer the way he is. But I'll be paying you directly out of my own pocket."

Scott nodded, pulling out a manila folder. Noticing the paperwork was empty, he grabbed a pen from somewhere and brought it to the paper. "All right," he says. "Give me the names of his victims and I'll try to find somewhere to start with that."

"You're not going to discuss prices first?" asked Carter, his voice obviously quite surpised.

Scott smiled as he began to write on the sheet of paper before him. "I'll be giving you a discount," he said. "Consider it a favor from a friend."

"Great!" said Carter. "Thanks a lot, Scotty!"

"Hey, any time, Carter," said Scott. "Now, remind me who the victims are again?"

Carter listed them off after that. After a rather friendly conversation, they hung up, leaving Scott to decide what to do with a list of seven names. He looked down at each name, pondering where he could start. He only had names, no evidence as of yet, and nothing to start with.

_I wonder where some of their parents are... _he thought. _Maybe they'd know something_.

Deciding that was the best course of action to go by, he looked down the list of names again, his finger going to one name and then the next. He pondered which name he should work with, and then his finger came to rest on one name out of the list.

_John Winter_

Something about the name Winter rung with Scott. A previous case of his came to mind; he had been hired by an Arthur Winter; he had hired Scott to investigate a burglary of his brother Peter's engagemen ring. The Winter family was of course not at all well off; Arthur and Peter had been together in a rather dingy apartment that could barely fit one person (let alone two), Arthur because he owned it and Peter because his wife had kicked him out. While he was at the apartment, Peter had mentioned something about his family, about how his wife Lauren was useless and how the only good thing she had ever done was to give him little Johnny. He was apparently angry that she was always selling herself to other men, having no other option.

Peter had disappeared according to what he had heard from the media when John Winter died. The name brought a lot of memories back.

But he also realized at the same time that the media completely avoided mentioning Lauren in all of that.

_Maybe she might know something?_

Scott decided it was the only lead he had at the moment. He would have to ask Carter about some of the other victims' parents, but that could come later. He had known Peter Winter; perhaps Lauren would know something?

Armed with this knowledge, he looked out into the rainy night. He stood up from his desk and grabbed the trenchcoat from the coat hanger before leaving the apartment.

His investigation into the Origami Killer had begun.


	2. Chapter 1

All right, so we're back with some more _Leads_. Fun times abound for various people, whether they want it like that or not. And we'll make it a point to not make Scott the killer. So let's get going!

* * *

Chapter 1: Lauren Winter

Scott drove up to a rather small roach motel. It was pouring outside, undoubtedly weather that the Origami Killer would delight in. Scott had known of his modus operandi. The victims would be found six hours after they died, having been drowned. The killer left an orchid and an origami figure with each person. This was pretty disturbing: Scott had a fascination with origami because his mother was always so fond of Japanese culture, but to think that symbols of peace would be associated with murder...

The thought sent chills running down the investigator's spine.

He took a look at the motel. The sign was not very well lit, that much was for sure. It was sparking in and out of function, and it did not bode well for anything.

Scott stepped out of the vehicle then, looking up at the motel as he closed the car door behind him. Lauren Winter had taken up residence in this small place. Scott only hoped he would get a clue into the Origami Killer from his visit with Lauren. He remembered something about Peter saying that she sold herself to other men to make money, so he had stopped by the bank first to pick up some money in cash. He figured he had enough on him.

_Let's just hope Lauren will talk,_ he thought.

With this, he entered the motel. It was certainly downtrodden; the lobby was not very large at all. The only indication there was of a welcome desk was a barred off window with a bell. It reminded Scott more of a doctor's office than a living space. Scott could definitely see why Lauren picked such a place to live in; income for a prostitute must have been pretty low, especially with Peter having apparently drunk all her money away.

He approached the window with some trepidation, looking inside to see a man inside.

"Lauren Winter?" asked the investigator.

The man inside gave him an indiscernible look and shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "I haven't heard of her."

Scott expected as much from the doorman. After all, prostitution was illegal around Philadelphia. And so, Scott took out his wallet from his back pocket. He took out a five dollar bill and left it on the desk, storing the wallet away pretty soon after.

"Oh, _that_ Lauren Winter," reiterated the doorman suddenly as he looked at the dollar bill. "Third floor, last room on the left."

Scott nodded wordlessly and left.

_Johnny must have been special to her_, thought Scott. _To hole herself up in a place like this... I don't know if she'll be willing to help me find this killer..._

With this, Scott set his first foot on the stairwell and ascended up the stairs to the third floor, adjusting his trench coat slightly as he moved.

* * *

_Last doorway on the left... Well this is it._

Scott stood in front of a door. He collected himself briefly, thinking about what he was going to tell Lauren. No doubt she would think he was a cop once he came in and didn't start undressing. He also wondered how much she would charge, what she would say... If he should bring up Peter. Which he doubted he should, seeing as how if Peter didn't like Lauren then it probably worked the same way for her.

Scott shook his head. Domestic disputes among the poor were complicated affairs, ones that he would have liked to stay out of when his father had been shot but that he eventually found he couldn't avoid.

He then knocked on the door, his fist rapping against the wood three times. Scott waited briefly with his arms crossed as he thought about this lead.

The door opened just a touch. Bright chestnut eyes peered at Scott, black hair falling down as she looked to see who it was. Her eyes seemed to register some sense of prying into Scott's intentions, but she simply shook her head.

"Lauren Winter?" asked Scott.

The woman seemed to have already made up a reply to his statement. "Sorry, I only see clients by appointment," she said, a rather thick French accent taking a large part of her speech patterns.

She was short and to the point. Scott could see this working to his advantage. At least, until he saw the door closing on him.

He stopped it with his hand just as she was about to close it all the way. "Wait--" But then he looked at Lauren, dressed in a bathrobe in the rather downtrodden apartment. Lauren looked a little preoccupied. If she was ready to complain, however, she did not show it.

"It's 50 bucks," she said. "Leave it on the table."

And with that, Lauren let him in. Scott smiled inwardly, knowing that he had gotten into Lauren's apartment. He took out his wallet, taking out a couple of 20 dollar bills and leaving them on the table. It was a rather quaint little apartment, but by no means glamorous. Scott guessed that Lauren really didn't get much from her profession. He briefly wondered how similar the two of them were in terms of that.

By this time, Lauren had walked over to the table. "We'll have ten minutes," she says. "It's over when the timer runs out. And I don't do kissing or any wierd shit."

This snapped Scott out of his all-too-brief reverie, and he simply approached the bed. Lauren was adjusting the strap around her bathrobe, and Scott noticed for the first time her very angular face. _Probably of French descent_, he thought. _It would certainly explain the accent._

She turned to face him tentatively, noticing that he was standing there.

"You should take off your clothes," she replies. "We haven't got all day."

Scott figured this would be as good a time as any to ask about the Origami Killer. Crossing his arms in front of his belly, he looked over to the prostitute.

"Actually, I'm not exactly looking for... that tonight," he replied.

Upon hearing this, Lauren's mood seemed to plummet. With a hefty sigh, she turned and sat on the bed.

"Shit, a cop," she breathed defeatedly. "I should've known."

Scott rose his eyebrow. "Former cop? Sure," he replied. "But not anymore. My name is Scott Shelby. I'm a private investigator. I've been hired by a good friend of mine who's in the police force to help with the Origami Killer case. I was wondering if you remembered anything."

Lauren's expression almost immediately hardened when the Origami Killer was brought up. Anger flared in her eyes as she looked to the private investigator. She shifted slightly before speaking.

"The police already questioned me," she said, her voice quivering with rage. "They didn't help me. What could you do?"

Scott realized that this would not end well. At the very least, he would leave without any answers, and at worst he would leave with a nice heel mark in his face. But he knew he had to try until Lauren showed she wouldn't budge. And so, he looked down.

"Look, other children may die if you don't help," said Scott. "The police have been having very few leads, but maybe if there was even one thing you could remember now that you didn't when they talked then maybe the other children could be saved."

"I don't care," was Lauren's rather vicious reply. "I don't care how many other victims there are. They couldn't help my Johnny when he was killed. All the others can die tomorrow for all I care."

The investigator shook his head. He leaned over the bed that Lauren was sitting on, looking down at the prostitute with a soft expression. He figured it would be a good idea to appeal to her sympathies. He remembered that he got shut off like that when his father had died; he figured he would be able to get through to her.

"Lauren, I know what it's like to lose someone close to you," replied Scott. "Maybe I could help you?"

The prostitute crossed her arms, glancing up at this. "Do you know what it is to lose a child, Mr. Shelby?" she asked. "I don't think you do. So get out."

She looked away, her poise determined not to speak about the murder of Johnny Winter. Shelby was running out of options, and he knew it. Looking at the timer, he realized he did have one last option he could try to get Lauren to talk. And so he looked at the clock and gestured at it.

"Well, I bought some of your time, didn't I?" he asked. "You could use that to tell me something about what happened."

Lauren shook her head, finally standing up. "You think you can toy with me like that?" she asks. "Take your money and go! I don't want to see you here again!"

Scott knew that he had hit a bad nerve with Lauren. He shook his head. That did not turn up much of anything, and he realized he was a fool for thinking it would. So he walked over to the table and took out his wallet.

"Well, all right," he said, taking out a business card. "But if you remember even one little detail, give me a call." With this, he left the business card on the table. He took his money back as per Lauren's command and then left the small apartment.

Scott stood at the apartment for a few extra seconds, pondering about Lauren Winter's lack of cooperation. He thought it disappointing, but then what could he do? She was a mother, grieving the loss of her only child. Shelby was not sure when Johnny Winter had been murdered, but it could not have been more than two years ago, so in a way he understood why she was so adamant about not talking to him.

He decided enough was enough. He had one other parent of the Origami Killer's victims who was still in town; Hassan Mansour, who ran a drug store on some oscure street. His son Reza had been a victim of the Origami Killer, so maybe he had something he didn't tell the police in his grief. Scott resolved to go to the drug store first thing tomorrow morning. He would need a new inhaler anyway, so it was a situation where Scott would win no matter what.

He walked back down the hall as gave one last glance at Lauren's apartment. He then walked down the corridor, back to the stairs.

But right as he got to the stairwell, his throat siezed up, and he suddenly found himself struggling for breath.

_Shit, an asthma attack!_

Scott leaned up against a wall of the small motel, his breathing slightly labored and his eyes wide as he stood there for a second. He began to search his pockets frantically for the inhaler. _Oh, where did I put the damn thing...?_

The investigator eventually found it in another pocket, taking out the inhaler and quickly bringing it to his mouth. As he pressed down to ease his breathing, he thought he saw someone else pass by. A rather large man in a wife-beater, but Shelby paid no attention as he used his inhaler.

When he breathed a little easier, he heard the door to Lauren's apartment open. As he stood up, words were exchanged, although he didn't know what was said. After these, the door closed again. And Scott found by that time that he could breathe easily enough to walk again. Taking a few more breaths, he stood up off of the wall.

He would have made for the stairwell if not for the fact that a shrill scream suddenly came from the direction of Lauren's room.

_Oh, shit,_ he thought. _Lauren's in trouble!_

Scott completely abandoned the idea of leaving the motel right then and there. Lauren may have turned him out coldly, but Scott was not about to let a woman get beat violently by someone.

The investigator thus walked over to the door, hoping Lauren would be all right. He knocked three times again, knowing that someone was inside. He recieved no reply after a few seconds, however, and so he moved to knock again.

At the second knock, a man answered the door. It was the same man that had passed by Scott, bald head making itself noticeable.

"What do you want, asshole?" asked the man rudely.

"Lauren?" called Scott. "Is everything all right?"

Scott didn't need to have the prostitute answer his question, though, as he then saw in the open doorway that Lauren was lying on the ground, holding herself barely. Scott knew that the woman was in trouble, and that he had to do something.

"She's just swell," said the man with a slight edge in his voice. "Now beat it, loser!"

And with this, the man slammed the door in his face. Scott knew he had to go in there and save Lauren. And thanks to the police training, he knew how to defend himself.

So he went and kicked the door down. When he did, the door swung open, the stranger having barely crossed the room to where Lauren lay injured. Scott entered, and this got the attention of both of the occupants of the room.

The man turned to him, a cocky expression on his face. "You again?" he asked. "If you're lookin' for trouble, you've found it. I'm gonna beat the shit out of you!"

"Troy, no!" shouted Lauren as the man shoved Scott into the doorway.

The stranger then attempted to slam the door in Scott's face, but the investigator had good reflexes from years of experience on the police force. He was able to shove the door away and land a punch on the stranger. This caused him to lean against a desk by the doorway. Seeing a lamp by the door, Scott brought his hands on it and attempted to bring it down on the man's head. He dodged this, however, the base of the lamp clanging loudly against the wooden object. As he put the lamp back down, Scott ducked his head back just in time to dodge a punch from the now very angry stranger he was fighting.

This served as a distraction, for then Scott felt a hand on the back of his head and noticed the room spinning around him. He realized what the opponent was trying to do, and so he added to the momentum. He was rewarded when a loud crash was heard as the stranger crashed through the glass of what Scott could only assume was Lauren's bathroom. He grabbed the sides of the stranger's head in an attempt to headbutt him, but the man was quick and batted Scott's arms away. The investigator ended up having to block a few punches from the man, Lauren yelling her protest behind the fight. Scott eventually managed to elbow the violent man before he turned and attempted to swat at the investigator with a chair. Scott barely managed to dodge this, and then they grabbed each other, spinning around before Scott landed on the table.

He felt his head hit some kind of bowl as the man as the man began to ram his head onto the table. "Troy, stop or I will call the cops!" shouted Lauren. "Troy, I will call the cops!"

The attack was not successful, however, and Scott managed to knee the man in the side. He noticed a bottle at the edge of his vision, and grabbed at it. The man's hand was forcing him down first, though, and Scott fought in vain against the arm. When this failed, he promptly felt himself get punched in the side and pulled off the table. He felt his back connect with what must have been the fridge. The stranger's hand came back in a punch, but Scott managed to dodge this, and then another punch. At the second punch, the stranger's hand punched straight through a microwave. The investigator lingered a little too long, though, as then he felt himself get shoved towards a stove.

Scott was fast, though, and he managed to stop himself as he faced the stove, then turning around and using the momentum to pick up the stranger. He held him there for a few seconds longer, and then promptly dropped him onto the table. The table collapsed under the force of the man falling, both of them sprawling about the floor as a loud boom echoed in the room.

As Scott stood up, he heard a crash of glass, and he looked to see that the man had hit the bottle against something such that the edges came out rather jagged.

"Troy, no!" screamed Lauren again.

This was all the warning Scott had as he was standing before the stranger attemped to swipe at Scott. He dodged this, and then a subsequent swipe from the violent man as Scott noticed the man raising his arm again. A stab was attempted, but Scott took the opportunity to grab the man's arm. The investigator moved to move it to Troy, but then he felt his ear get pulled on. It hurt quite a bit, and then he felt himself back up into the refrigerator yet again. He struggled against the man, and then he managed to bat his head to the side, getting him to let go of his ear and dropping his guard for a bit. The man's head was slammed against the refrigerator as Scott turned them around. He managed to hit the man in the face with his own weapon before twirling him around the room so that he rested against the bathroom. With a few elbows to the arm, Scott finally managed to disarm the man, and then he kneed the stranger a couple of times in the stomach.

The two of them then moved around the room as Scott elbowed the stranger in the back a few times. They seemed to move about until the reached the wall on the far end, Scott's back hitting the wall as they finally came undone. The investigator had knocked down a jewelry mannequin from a small table, which the violent man promptly picked up. He attempted to hit Scott on the head twice, but he managed to block both times. The third time, the stranger went in for a hit, The investigator saw a very large opening. With this, Scott rushed up and head-butted the man, forcing him to drop the mannequin and knocking some air out of him. Scott punched the man three times in the face, and then both were seen wobbling on their legs as the stranger stumbled back over the ruined table.

The fight ended almost as soon as it had begun as the man stood up. "I'll see you again, asshole!" he said, standing on shaky legs. He slammed the door behind him as he left, leaving Scott panting as he leaned against the wall next to where the stranger had picked up the mannequin.

And then a silence took over the apartment for a few seconds as Lauren looked to Scott, the damage around her apartment, and then back to Scott. She regards the investigator for a moment before speaking.

"Are you all right?" she asks.

Scott puhed himself off the wall, looking at the door as he felt feeling return. "Better than him I guess," he replied. "Who was he?"

"An ex-client who thinks he owns me," she replies, her expression impassive. "He was getting violent, and I told him I didn't want to see him anymore."

Scott nodded, regarding Lauren with a hand gesture. "You should be careful," he said. "He'll probably be back." He moved back to the door with a slight sway in his step as he regarded the area briefly. "Sorry about the mess," he added just as his hand fell on the knob.

He would have exited right then, but then Lauren called out to him.

"Mr. Shelby?" she asked.

Scott paused at the door before turning around and taking a step back in. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Thanks." Lauren cocked her head as she said this, her eyes no longer holding the cold and callous expression that she kicked him out of the apartment with. Now, they had a different kind of regard to the man who had just now saved her.

Scott nodded to Lauren as he moved to exit the apartment. "You're welcome," he replied, stepping out of the apartment. He stepped out very slowly, forgetting to close the door as he did so. As he did, the pain of the activity he had just taken part in caught up to him rather quickly. He limped back out of the motel, getting to his car and sitting there for a few seconds.

_I could do with a nice hot shower before I go to bed tonight_, he thought briefly.

With this, he turned the key in his car and drove away. Hopefully his luck would be better the next day.


	3. Chapter 2

Okay, let's get back to this. Now, here's a question I wondered: What would Scott have done if he didn't have to get Shawn's body out of there? He'd probably go to various places earlier. And since Blake is on the case... He'll also get an update on stuff.

Stay tuned.

* * *

Chapter 2: Hassan's Shop

Scott had just had breakfast and was researching the parents of the killer's victims when the phone rang. He nodded and picked up the phone, holstering it on his shoulder.

"Scott Shelby, private investigator," said Scott. "How may I help you."

"Good, you're there," said the man on the other line. "It's Carter."

"Oh, hey Carter," replied Scott as he placed his pen down. "I'm working out some leads on the case. I've found out that most of the families of the killer fled the city, except for a couple. I looked into one last night, and she didn't have anything to add to that. I'm planning on visiting another parent later today."

"Good to see you're taking interest in the case," said Carter on the other line. "Listen, I've got bad news. You might have to add another person to the list that you're working on..."

Scott froze. _Oh, shit, another victim... _he thought. _This can't be good. But it could lead to another lead..._

"I see," said the investigator after a few seconds. "Has the victim been identified?"

"Yes," said Carter. "He's been identified as Jeremy Bowles. Found in a ditch, same way as all the other victims. This is serious shit, Scott. I hope you're working on it!"

Scott nodded and placed his hand on the desk. "I'm working on it as fast as I can," he replied. "That said, I don't have anything to build from right now. If you think there may be another victim on the line sometime soon, give me a call. I'll try to work fast if that's the case."

"Glad to hear it," replied the police lieutenant. "You need any information on Jeremy Bowles?"

"If you could," replied the investigator.

Blake coughed as he seemed to shift something on his desk. "All right," said Carter. "He has a mother named Susan Bowles. We told her of her loss, but she's taking it very hard. Any attempts to get any answers as to what happened when Jeremy disappeared have led to nothing, and we haven't had any success contacting the victim's father."

Scott nodded, jotting all of these notes down. "I see," he said. "Well, listen, I'm going to go see another parent of a victim soon, so keep me posted if we have a potential victim on our hands. I'll let you know if I come up with anything."

"Will do, Scott," said Blake. "Good luck."

The investigator nodded, setting his pen down. "Thanks," he said. "I think I'll need it. You take care."

And with that, the call ended. Scott placed the phone back in the holster, looking up at the ceiling as he did.

_Great, another victim,_ he thought. _I just hope I won't have to deal with another victim soon. And yet... I've got a feeling that won't be the case..._

With this, Scott's thoughts returned to Hassan Mansour. Scott had realized that time was wasting then. Besides, he needed more inhalers; he had used up his last inhaler at Lauren's apartment building. He resolved to go to Hassan after lunch, with the hope of getting some answers. In the meantime, his thoughts went back to his own father. He wondered what his father would have said to his present situation. No doubt he would have been very angry at his brother and him and sad at his mother's state. Scott wished he had gotten to know his father better. It would have saved him a little bit of trouble in his high school years.

Either way, the investigator knew he was getting nowhere. Thinking this, he nodded.

He went to go prepare himself some lunch, giving a glance to the trenchcoat that rested on the coat rack before entering is kitchen.

* * *

Scott arrived at the corner drugstore later that afternoon. It was just about to rain then, and Scott was sure it would start pouring after a while. The investigator wondered whether some higher power knew that something was about to transpire and sent rain after them. Or it could have been the normal autumn rain. Either way, he knew that this weather was when the Origami Killer was most active.

This meant, of course, that Scott had to work fast to find the killer before another victim disappeared.

_That, and do it all without getting the media on my part of the investigation,_ he added in his head. _I think I could do with laying low until this whole thing blows over. That way, the killer won't see what's coming for him._

And so, he entered Hassan's corner drug store. Scott looked over to the counter where a middle aged man was busy tending to some things in the shop. He looked no older than Scott, and yet he could tell immediately why the drug store seemed so empty from outside. The investigator had figured from the fact that the man's name was Hassan that he would be of Middle Eastern descent, but Scott was taken by surprise at the man in the shop. But still, he seemed pretty cheerful despite the fact that his son had died.

_Or maybe he isn't taking it so well..._ thought Scott.

"Good afternoon, sir," said Hassan with a nod.

Scott looked around the store briefly, turning to the counter shortly afterwards. The man who owned the drug store noticed this and rose an eyebrow.

"May I help you, sir?" asked the Iranian man.

The private investigator leaned against the counter, settling and nodding before speaking. "Well, I hope so," he began. "My name is Scott Shelby. I'm a private investigator. I've been hired by a friend of mine to look into the Origami killer. I was wondering if you had anything that could help me in my investigation."

Hassan's expression instantly turned sour. _Looks like I hit a nerve,_ thought the investigator. _Can't say I blame him._

"My son is dead, Mr. Shelby," replied Hassan. "There is nothing you or this friend of yours can do to help him."

The investigator was not prone to giving up there. "What about any other victims?" asked Scott. "Maybe you know something that could help save other boys."

"They could not save my little Reza," replied the drug store owner. "_I_ could not save Reza. I doubt there is anything you could do, Mr. Shelby."

"They found another victim this morning," Scott was quick to point out. "And we may find another victim soon. Maybe you know something that the police missed out on..."

"I highly doubt it, Mr. Shelby," replied Hassan. "There is no point talking about it, anyway. My son is dead, and there is nothing we can do about it."

Scott nodded, taking his wallet and leaving a business card on the counter. "Right, no point in pushing it, I guess," he said. "I'll leave my card here so you can call if you remember anything."

"Somehow I doubt I will use it," replied the drug store owner.

The investigator nodded. _Somehow, I don't doubt it,_ he thought. He moved towards the door when he suddenly remembered something.

_Wait, an inhaler..._

"Oh, do you sell inhalers by any chance?" asked the investigator, turning back around so he would face Hassan. "I'm all out, and at least I won't come out completely empty handed."

Hassan nodded and pointed to the back of the store. "In the back on the far right," he said.

"Thanks," Scott replied, before turning from Hassan. He then made his way over to the area of the store that the owner had pointed at.

As he walked along, he saw that the drug store really wasn't in the best shape. There was a fallen bag of chips in the center aisle, and chips were scattered all over the middle of it. They crunched under his feet as he saw the overly tidy aisles. Somehow it felt a little off, especially judging by the over-sanitized smell of the place. Scott figured that Hassan didn't do very good business in the small store.

_It would be such a coincidence if this store was the one that always got robbed,_ he thought briefly as he made his way to the back of the store. _The poor man has more than just his grief with Reza to deal with, it seems... Especially being an immigrant, most likely._

Scott turned when he arrived at the back of the store. There, hanging from one of the shelves was an inhaler. The investigator picked it up from the shelf and tossed it in his hand freely before nodding.

_There we go,_ he thought. _I'll be asthma free for a little while longer._

Right at that moment, Scott heard the door opening. _Good,_ he thought. _Nice to think that I won't be his only customer today._

When Scott heard the cocking of a gun and a voice shouting "Give me everything in that register," however, he knew something was up.

Scott peered into the aisles and knew that there would be trouble. He ducked down quickly and heard shouting from where Hassan stood.

_Shit..._ thought Scott. _There's a bandit there. I've got to approach this carefully_.

With this, he looked to the aisle furthest from the window. Walking there, he slowly moved around as he heard the robber and Hassan shouting. The noise covered Scott's footsteps well enough, but the investigator was still nervous as he walked down the aisle. Hassan was continually refusing to give money to the thief, and Scott was mentally wishing he could kick him for that. Still, that was what was happening, and so it was left to the investigator to intervene.

As he came by some frying pans, he figured it would be a good idea to pick one up to use as a makeshift weapon. As he approached the end of the aisle, he brought his hand around the handle of a frying pan and slowly took it off the rack. His hands were tense throughout, but he was able to remove it without making any noise.

_Good, at least I'm armed,_ he thought to himself. _Now, to save Hassan..._

Scott rounded the corner, holding up the frying pan as he slowly and quietly approached the bandit. He was a young man, wearing a black hat and not a mask. This puzzled Scott; maybe the man was inexperienced. _Maybe I can talk him out of this,_ thought Scott briefly. _Poor thing looks like he would flip if he actually shot Hassan..._

The investigator edged ever closer to the gunman. But just as Scott was about to get anywhere near either of them, the bandit turned his head.

_Shit!_

"Hey!" shouted the bandit. This startled Shelby such that he dropped the frying pan. The pan connected to the floor with a loud clang as the robber turned his gun to Scott. "Put your hands up or I'll shoot!" shouted the bandit loudly. "Put them up, or I'll fucking shoot you!"

Scott did so, raising his hands just above his shoulders and looking at the bandit. But his hands were shaking rather violently. It was almost as if the robber was afraid of shooting anybody that was in the shop.

_Shit... _he thought. _I should do something. Maybe talk to him..._

"Don't panic," said Scott, holding his hands up. "Let's just stay calm. Nobody here wants to hurt you. Now we're all just going to be cool and everything will be all right."

The bandit nodded, and his jaw worked as he thought of a reply. "Yeah... he said. "Yeah, I'm cool, man. I'm fucking calm."

_All right, his defenses are down..._ thought the investigator. _I'll try to talk him out of this first. If that doesn't work, it's fisticuffs to solve this situation._

"My name is Scott," the investigator said, hoping to coax the robber along a certain path. "What's your name?"

"I... I'm Andrew," said the robber. "Yeah, I'm Andrew. I... I'm cool, man..."

Scott began to step forward ever so slowly. _Okay, okay, I'm doing good,_ thought the investigator. His gaze briefly fell onto Hassan, whose hands were raised by his head. He was fortunately unharmed. _Good, at least he's out of the way... Now what would a robber think of at this time...? Oh!_

"Do you have any family?" asked Scott, approaching slowly. "Anybody you care about...?"

_Shit... I don't think I should have asked that.._. thought the investigator as he stood in place.

But surprisingly, the robber's grip on his gun began to shake a little more. "Y... yeah, I do," replied Andrew nervously. "I... I've got a girl. Her name's Jessica. She's six years old..."

_Bingo._ "How do you think Jessica would feel, seeing you like this?" asked Scott.

The grip on Andrew's gun seemed to falter. _I'm getting through to him!_ The investigator took another step forward as the man's jaw worked harder than Scott honestly thought was possible.

"You don't really want to kill anyone, do you?" asked the former policeman, still holding his hands up.

"N... No..." he muttered. "I just want some money... A few dollars... That's all... I just didn't..."

Andrew nearly broke down at this. _The poor kid's had enough,_ thought Scott briefly as he advanced one last time.

"All right," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you. Now I'm just going to put my hands down, and you'll walk away and have a second chance not to fuck up your life. And we'll both forget this ever happened. All right?" The investigator slowly lowered his hands as he looked to Andrew.

For a moment, he was worried that his talk had not done anything for Hassan. The man just stared at Scott, his jaw working overtime as he fought to say something. No words seemed to come out, and for quite some time Scott was worried he had not been able to talk him down. The man was silent, his grip shaking greatly as he slowly put his arm down.

Finally, the gun was put into his pocket, and the man very slowly exited the drug store. The chimes rang cheerfully as the door opened, and then he looked back to the private investigator one last time. As the door closed, the robber sprinted down the street and out of sight of Scott.

The investigator let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding and walked over to the counter. Hassan simply looked at him with a very surprised expression on his face. Scott simply nodded.

"Well, there we go," he said. "Hopefully, we won't have to run into him again..."

The storekeeper's jaw worked breifly. "I did not... think you could do it," he said, gesturing to the door that Andrew had left through. "But... I am still grateful. A thousand thank yous, Mr. Shelby."

"Hey, I'm a private eye," replied the investigator. "It's what I do."

Hassan took the inhaler and scanned it with the scanner. However, he also paused as Scott reached for his wallet. When the investigator held his dollar bill, out, Hassan took it, but placed it on the counter instead.

"The morning that Reza disappeared, I got a letter in the mail," he said.

Scott rose his eyebrows. _Huh, he knows something that can help me. _"Oh?" asked the investigator. "What did this letter say?"

"It was some kind of poem..." he says. "I don't remember it now. But it also had a ticket to a locker in a train station within the city." Here, Hassan dove under the counter, fiddling around for something. "When I opened this locker, there was this box. I didn't dare open it. I was... afraid, of what I would see."

When this was said and done, Hassan rose, with a brown shoebox in his hand. He set it on the counter in front of Scott.

"I saved the box," he said. "To remind me of what I lost. But I want you to have it now. Especially if it can save any other victims."

_Well... Looks like we've finally got something_, thought the investigator. Scott smiled. "I see," he says. "I'll look into this box, see what it can tell me. And if we're lucky, it might just help me bring this guy to justice."

"A thousand blessings unto you, sir," replied Hassan. "I did not think there was any good to be found here. Until now. Good luck, sir."

Scott nodded as he took the inhaler and the box. "Thanks, I'll need them," he said. "Thank you for everything. And keep the change."

With this, the investigator left the drug store, with the box that Hassan had given him and with a fresh new inhaler. After he had left, the storekeeper looked down at the twenty dollar bill, nodding. Scott Shelby was definitely a good man, he decided, and was probably the best man to take down the Origami Killer.

In the silence of the empty store, therefore, he saw it fit to continue taking down inventory. But there was a slight spring in his step, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And so, all was well in Hassan's shop.

* * *

When Scott returned home that evening, he had left the shoebox on his desk. He had taken care of some house-cleaning duties before finally turning his full attention to the box. A sense of dread overcame the investigator as he pulled up the chair to the desk and looked at the box. He had put on a pair of latex gloves beforehand, but somehow he knew something terrible was within the box.

_I can see why Hassan didn't open this..._ thought the investigator. _Just the sight of it is enough to put me on edge..._

Scott took a deep breath in, and realized it had to be done eventually.

With hands that he did not realize were shaking, he uncovered the lid of the box. What he saw within surprised him greatly.

He pulled out an origami figure from the box. It was one of five that were strewn about, and this one was folded to look like a bear. There were four other creatures, all made of varying types of origami paper and folded intricately. There was something odd about them, as a certain part of the figure seemed a little thick for origami paper. As if there was something inside each one...

_Well, this definitely belonged to the Origami Killer at one point,_ he thought. _But what's the meaning of it...?_

Looking in the box, however, he saw that the origami figures were not the only thing in there. There was a gun, as well as a cell phone and what looked like a battery. He picked up the gun first, and decided it would be a good idea to check its ammunition stores. When he pulled back, he was surprised by what he saw.

_It's fully loaded!_ he thought as he looked at the gun, jumping back a little in surprise. _How did that happen?_

The investigator was very quickly not liking where the box was leading him. It had five origami figures and a loaded gun. With a pronounced frown on his face, he loaded the ammunition cartridge back into the gun, placing it in the box. His attention turned to the cell phone and the battery soon after, and he gave them both a look.

_Maybe there's something here that'll point out what all this is supposed to mean..._ he thought.

With this, he picked up both cell phone and battery, and examined each of them. The phone was a newer model, as evidenced by its apparently new screen. It seemed to be in good condition, but when he squinted a little harder, he suddenly saw a small problem.

_Oh, crap..._ he thought. _The battery slot is a little dented._

It was certainly a problem, as there was a dent on the thin end of the battery slot. While small, the investigator knew that it would hinder his ability to insert the battery into the phone. With this, he could never figure out what the killer intended. Scott was short enough on money as it was, and he knew he did not want to spend what he had so far on a phone he likely wouldn't use after this investigation anyhow.

He shook his head and dropped both items into the box carefully. He leaned back in his chair, and suddenly realized something.

_Well, wait a minute,_ he thought. _If Hassan had that phone... then maybe the killer gave the same model phone to the families of all his victims?_

After pondering on this, the investigator nodded. _Well, it's the only thing I've got right now,_ he thought. _At any rate, I think I'm finally on to something. Better call Carter and tell him that I'm making a breakthrough._

With this, Scott closed the box and stored it in a drawer in his desk. He glanced back up at his desk, looking at the paper that he had written the information about the latest victim on.

_Jeremy Bowles..._ he read. _Son of Susan Bowles. Well, Mrs. Bowles, I hope you don't mind if I pay you a visit tomorrow. The lives of children may depend on it._

With this, he turned back to the phone and dialed the police station. As he dialed the number, a final thought entered his brain that made him hesitate slightly. He held the receiver slightly below his ear, before paling in shock.

_This killer is up to something horrible, I know it... _he thought. _Oh, if only I was the killer... At least that way I would know how to turn him in..._


	4. Chapter 3

All right, and welcome back to the story. We've got some more thing sticking to the basic plot of _Heavy Rain_.

This will also likely be the last chapter where that's true. Up to this point, things can more or less stay the same, I find. But starting next chapter, an issue comes up that means that the plot will play out very differently than it did before. How so? Well... All I'll say at this point is this: why didn't he bring up the box or cell phone earlier?

And after that? More and more deviations from the plot of the game.

With this, I'll start the chapter. Away we go!

* * *

Chapter 3: Suicide Baby

Scott slammed the phone against the receiver for what felt like the millionth time. Not just the day before, but the morning after as well.

Contacting Carter had somehow gotten extremely difficult between the time that he went to Hassan's shop and the time he planned on heading over to Susan Bowles' home. He had called the police station. His office. His home. His cell. Carter wasn't picking up anything. Scott had picked up a Macbook as a gift from Carter, and he had also attempted to send an e-mail. But if he had sent it right, the police lieutenant was still taking very long to get back at him.

This much troubled Scott more than any other. He had finally made a major break on the Origami Killer case, but he couldn't even talk to the very person that hired him to do so. And Scott had run too many situations in his mind.

The only one that seemed to make sense to Scott's mind was the possibility that there was another potential victim that had just disappeared. This thought scared Scott most of all, as it was very likely that this was the case. If it was, he knew he had to work fast.

Which was why he was glad he had woken up early that day. He planned to go to the residence of Susan Bowles, and had arranged to head over there at eight o-clock. He was making good on that so far, as the Bowles residence was not too far away.

And so, Scott sat at his desk, looking at the phone. He decided against calling Carter one last time, as he was certain that he would not receive the message as in every other time Scott had attempted to contact him.

With this, the investigator stood up and walked over to the door. Getting his trenchcoat and taking a deep breath, he exited his apartment and headed out to his car.

* * *

Scott pulled up into a rather small home, tin walls seeming to stand in mourning as the rain poured over it. Scott gave the place a brief look before shaking his head. Twisting the keys so that the car stopped, he looked out and stepped into the rain.

He took a moment to look at the house, his hand resting on the car. He took in a deep breath, smiling softly as he did.

_Ah,_ he thought. _Asthma free for the moment, and loving it._

Scott then looked over to the house, shaking his head.

_Well, I hope Susan Bowles has something I can use,_ he thought. _I'll need it to see that battery that was in that box. Let's hope..._

The investigator then walked over to the front door. It was wood. Rather simple, really. He noticed the doorbell to the side. Giving it a sidelong glance, he pressed the doorbell, hearing a ring from within the house.

Scott waited, but there was nothing to greet him. No footsteps, no door opening. Nothing.

_Hm. Maybe she's not home._

But Scott decided it wouldn't hurt to try to get the person's attention. _After all, she could be in the shower. Maybe she's just getting herself into something presentable._ So he decided to knock on the door.

And when he did, he thought he heard a baby cry out from inside. This startled him slightly. Looking to the side, he suddenly noticed a window there. He figured it would not hurt to peek, and so he did so.

As he didn't hear anything, he noticed that there was a baby in the house that had begun bawling after it had been woken. He heard nothing for a few more seconds.

_Hm. Nobody's answering the door, the baby's home... _The investigator frowned at this turn of events. _I don't like the looks of this... There's got to be another way in._

Scott turned around then, and figured he would go around the back to see if there was a back door. It was his only chance at seeing Susan Bowles. The fact that there was something disturbing about the whole thing did not get to Scott until he rounded the house. But by that time, he was at the back door.

He looked over, ascening a couple of stairs as he looked at the back door. _Shit, this is crazy,_ he thought. _I don't want to get run in for breaking and entering while investgating a killer..._ As he ascended the steps, the feeling of dread began to increase.

When he stood in front of the back door, he tested the knob. To his surprise, it was open. The investigator blinked before realizing such, and then he looked into the house. Taking a breath, he stepped into the house of Susan Bowles, the sound of the rain on the pavement lessening and being partly replaced by the pitter-patter of rain on a tin roof.

He found himself in a drab kitchen. It was clean, but not outstanding. He navigated around a small table, keeping an eye on the bottle warmer that was standing on a sink in the corner. Something about this seemed off. Susan must have heard him coming in, and yet there was nothing there.

Scott simply moved on in the house to find himself on the far end of the front door. The baby was crying in its crib in a rather simple living room that was just as drab as the kitchen he was in. There were some beer bottles somewhere along, and a drawer right by the entryway into the kitchen. Scott gave a look around.

And then, a terrible feeling of horror crept into his skin when he spotted a single white sheet directly in front of him behind one of the couches. Seeing the paper, the private eye knelt down. He gingerly took it, and noticed that it had writing on it.

"I can't take it anymore..." read Scott. "Please take care of the baby..."

The gravity of the situation dawned on the investigator almost immediately.

_Oh, shit... Oh, _shit!

"Oh, no..." he said, leaving the paper there. He turned to the baby and back before looking around. "Wait..."

The house looked like it had just been used for something. _There may still be time..._

With this hope, Scott walked quickly towards the door, seeing a hallway with a door at the end. He figured that the room was where Susan would be, and so he quickly walked over to the door. When he got to it, he opened it very fast, the door almost slamming against the far wall as he entered. Susan was not in her bed either, as the room was completely empty. However, when he stepped inside and noticed that the door of the bathroom was closed, he somehow knew that the bathroom was the place she would most likely be at.

The investigator rushed to the bathroom door. "Mrs. Bowles!" he called out. He tested the knob, finding resistance.

_Shit, no time..._ Scott looked at the door, and then behind him. There was enough space to rush at the door and throw his body weight against it. He knew it was his only chance at saving a woman's life.

And so, he reared back breifly, and rushed forward. He put his full body weight against the door, the door moving slightly when his body whacked against it. He reared back again, his heart racing as he rushed against the door. He had to save Susan Bowles. There was no question.

With a third rush, the bathroom door catapaulted open, the door slamming against the wall as Scott caught himself just under the medical cabinet. He looked around the bathroom quickly.

In the bathtub was where Susan Bowles lay. The bath was half-full. This would have been calm, if not for the fact that the water was mostly a distorted red.

"Oh, shit!"

Scott rushed over to the bathtub, shaking Susan' shoulders.

"Susan, can you hear me?" he asked, shaking her shoulders as his expression slowly became more horrified. "Susan, wake up! Susan!"

The investigator didn't need to look at her arms to know that she had most likely slashed her wrists. And so, Scott reached into the bathtub, his sleeves getting soaked in the water as he made sure Susan was secure in his arms. When he felt he had gotten Susan firmly in his arms, he quickly lifted her out of the bathtub and walked out of the room. He laid Susan gently down on the bed.

And thankfully, as soon as he set her down, she stirred, looking up to her savior with a look of bewilderment on her face. She briefly opened her mouth. "Wh... who...?"

"Scott Shelby," he replied. "Private investigator. I'm going to go call an ambulance."

As he exited the room, the woman seemed to bolt up as much as she could after losing as much blood as he did. "No... I don't want an ambulance," she says.

Scott turned and shook his head. "But you just tried to kill yourelf!" he protested. "You need some help!"

"I... I don't want an ambulance..." repeated Susan. "I have something to bandage these wounds up."

_I still don't think it's a good idea to leave you here... But I'll humor you for now._ "All right," Scott said, relenting softly. "I'll look for it."

Scott quickly entered the bathroom, noting the cabinet with a mirror just above the sink. _Right, that should have everything I'll need._

He opened the cabinet, and sure enough he saw a roll-up bandage, several band-aids, and other things to cover wounds.

"All right, I'll need this, this, and this," he said out loud, grabbing the bandage, band-aids, and something to dry up her hands. With this, he ran back into the bedroom, setting everything besides where Susan lay. He prepared the cloth to halt the bleeding, and pulled Susan's arm to him. As he did this, he grabbed the cloth and pressed it against her wrists. After waiting a few seconds, he left the cloth draped over the suicidal mother's leg.

"Susan, stay with me, okay?" asked Scott as he grabbed the bandage and proceeded to roll it around her arms. "Stay with me."

He looked over to the band-aids, quickly taking two out as he held the bandage in place. As soon as this was done he pulled the band-aids out of their wrappings and applied them to the bandage. When it stayed, Scott immediately turned his attention to the other wrist.

"I'm here, Susan," he said again as he grabbed the cloth and pressed it against the cut on her other wrist. "Everything's going to be all right."

Grabbing the bandage, Scott quickly discarded the cloth, not caring where it landed as he threw it very gently. He promptly wrapped the bandage around Susan's wrist, and then grabbed another air of band-aids and wrapped them around the wrist. He looked at his handiwork as Susan stirred.

"There, I've done what I can," he says. "Fortunately the cuts weren't too deep. That should stop the bleeding."

_Phew. Saved the mother. Hopefully she'll live another day._

Scott's thoughts were interrupted by a sharp cry from the baby in the other room. He looked behind him with wide eyes as the baby cried out. And Susan rose, the bed shifting behind her as she tried to get up.

"My baby needs me!" she said.

But Scott knew she had to get some rest to help replenish the blood. He gently brought his hands to Susan's shoulders and gently pushed her back down onto the bed. "No," he said simply. "You need to get some rest. I'll take care of it."

Susan's expression was perplexed as Scott did this. "But do you know what to do with a baby?" she asked.

Scott smiled, patting her shoulders as he gestured with his shoulders. "I'm a private eye," he replied. "There's nothing I can't do."

The investigator stood up, and walked towards the exit of the room. "Her name is Emily," called out Susan.

"Emily," he repeated as he stopped briefly at the doorway. "Got it."

_Good thing I did all that babysitting work in high school,_ he thought. _At least I know what to do with a baby now._

And with this, Scott suddenly looked at his hands, seeing how bloody they were. _First, I should get something done about the blood, though. I wouldn't want to wake up with blood on my clothes, even if I'm a baby._

With this, he gave a glance at Emily crying before he walked over to the kitchen. He saw the sink, and approached it. Turning on the tab for cold water, he brought his hands underneath and washed the blood off of them. When they were completely off, he turned the tap off and waved his hands around to get the water off of them.

_Okay, that should take care of that._ With this in mind, he sauntered back over to the living room, turning his full attention to the crib, where Emily lay.

"Hey Emily," he said over the baby's crying. "What's wrong?"

He leaned forward and breathed in. He almost instantly regretted doing so, for then his nostrils got a whiff of something nasty.

"Ugh..." he said, leaning back a bit. "Going by the smell, I think I've got a pretty good idea..."

With this, he brought his arms over to Emily and picked her up, the baby seeming to become a little more calm as its crying began to lessen. Scott carried her over to the table where he saw the spare daipers in a box, and then laid Emily down.

"Now... how does this go again?" he asked, looking down at the baby. Laying her down and taking the baby's clothes off, he saw the daiper right in front of him. Unfastening the daiper, he lifted the baby up briefly, pulling the daiper to the side before grabbing a clean daiper from within the package. He slipped this new daiper under Emily, and then fastened it as she giggled happily. Scott reapplied her clothes, and then picked her up, the baby giggling as smiled at Scott.

"There, that should just about do it," he said to the baby with a friendly smile on his face. Scott gently lowered her into the crib, and stepped back. Almost as soon a he did, however, she started crying again. "Oh, what's the matter Emily?" he asked. "I thought I solved the problem!"

_Maybe she's hungry_. The thought came to Scott almost immediately, and he realized it probably held a lot of truth. Looking over, he noticed a bottle of milk laying on the side.

He picked it up and examined it. _I should warm this up._ He remembered the bottle warmer that he saw when he entered the house in the first place. Thinking of this, he walked over to the kitchen with the bottle in tow, and placed the bottle in the warmer. This, he turned on, and was left to wait for a second.

As he waited, he got lost in thought. To before John had become a raging drunkard. He had a wife and child, and Scott would sometimes come over and take care of the baby for him. That was before she left him, though. The investigator couldn't believe the nerve of John's wife for leaving him like that. After all, their situation was rather nice. Nevertheless, his wife leaving him was likely one of the things that got John into alcohol. Shame; the baby was really cute.

His thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the bottle finishing its warming routine. A loud ding sounded, and then Scott walked over and pulled the bottle out. He shook it slightly, testing its warmth. When he was satisfied, he left the kitchen and went over to Emily. He picked her up, and cradled her in one of his arms.

"All right," he said. "Now I'm going to tip this bottle just a little bit so that you don't choke, all right?"

_I don't think I needed to say that... _With this thought and a roll of his eyes, he tilted the bottle up, bringing it over to Emily's Mouth. The investigator looked down at the baby and the serene expression on her face as she drank the milk. The investigator's eyes dashed to the bottle every so often, making sure that all of the milk was drunk by the baby.

The bottle emptied in time. When he noticed this, he set the empty bottle back on the table and lifted Emily up. The girl was now resting against his shoulder, where Scott held her. Slowly, he began patting her back, rocking her up and down as he did. After a few seconds of doing this, a rather loud belch was heard from the baby, with Scott widening his eyes in surprise at just how loud Emily had burped. The investigator chuckled and cradled her in his arms.

"Oh, I'll bet you're doing just fine now," he says. "Now I'll rock you gently to sleep."

_Again, why am I saying these things out loud?_ The thought occurred to him briefly, and then he simply went to work rocking Emily to sleep. The baby seemed to smile up at him as he did so, and after a few seconds, he felt her weight settle gradually into his arms. And then, Emily was snoozing. Scott moved to the crib slowly, setting her down gently as she snored contentedly.

Scott's smile lingered for a second more before it faded, looking around the room.

_Poor thing. She's going to have a tough life ahead of her._ He observed the beer bottles around the room, before remembering that Susan Bowles was still in the house. _And hopefully still breathing._

With this, he turned around and walked back down the hallway where Susan's room was. He opened the door to find Susan sitting against the edge of the bed. When he entered, her gaze fell upon the investigator, and she nodded.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I barely even know who you are... but thank you."

"Hey, I'm a private eye," replied the investigator. "It's part of the job description."

Susan nodded. "It's just been so hard ever since... Since Jeremy..." she nearly lost her composure as a tear slid down her eye. Her hand came up to her eyes, wiping the tears as Scott entered the room. "...I'm sure you know by now..."

Scott leaned against the wall. "I think so," he said. "Especially with the media hounding the damn story no matter what happens. Where's your husband?"

The woman took a moment to gather her composure before continuing. "He left," she says. "The day after Jeremy disappeared... he just took off. He didn't even say a word. He just came in with a brown shoebox and took off."

_Again with the box._ Scott mused on this as he looked down at Susan._ This means... yes, it's part of the Origami Killer's methods... but why would he give the fathers a box after kidnapping their sons...? Is he... trying to help them find them...?_

The mother shook her head. "I don't know what happened to the box itself," she said. "He took off with it before I could see what was inside. He left a cell phone, though."

Scott rose his eyebrows at this. "He left a cell phone?" asked the investigator.

"Yes," replied Susan, looking over to the man who had saved her. "Why?"

The man glanced briefly at the wallpaper, wondering how to put it to her. Finally, he pushed himself off of the wall and walked over to the bed.

"I've been hired to look for the Origami Killer by a friend," replied Scott as he sat down next to the mother. "I visited another parent of a victim. And this parent gave me a box almost exactly of the box you just described. I actually looked inside the box."

Susan's eyes seemed to glimmer in some kind of anticipation as she turned her head slowly to face him. "What was in it?" she asked.

Scott's fists tightened. "There were five origami figures, a hand-gun, and a cell phone," he says. "And a battery to go with the phone. But the cell phone was damaged badly enough that I couldn't insert the battery..."

The woman nodded at this. "I kept the cell phone," she said. "You should take it. I think it'll be of much more use to you than it will be to me. It's in the drawer by the crib."

Scott nodded. "Got it," he says as he stands up. "Do you have anyone to help you take care of Emily?"

Susan hesitated slightly. "My mother," she replies, her voice dropping. "We've been distant lately... but I suppose... I'll call her as soon as I can."

The investigator nodded and approached the door. "You take care of Emily," he said as he walked towards the door. "And I swear I'll catch the Origami Killer before he can cause harm to anybody else."

The mother said nothing, simply sitting at the edge of the bed as Scott closed the door when he left. He walked through the hallway and back into the living room, taking a look at Emily's sleeping form as he noticed a drawer. He knelt down briefly and opened the drawers. He stopped when he saw a cell phone in one of them. Frowning, he picked up the cell phone.

_Hm... It's the same model as Hassan's cell phone,_ he noted. He peered at the phone from a different angle. _And there's a battery already in there. If it's still there, though, I doubt the battery power is still functioning. Well... at least I can use the battery that was in Hassan's box._

With this, the investigator stored it in his pant pocket, not daring to get it wet as the rain was still going. With a soft sigh, he looked around the house, walking towards the kitchen. He gave one last look at Emily sleeping there.

And as he did, he couldn't help but wonder what a bleak future was in store for Susan and Emily Bowles. Emily had to grow up without a father. Susan had to raise her pretty much on her own. Their life would not be easy, and Scott half considered offering his own services to help. But in the end, he knew anything he could do was probably worthless, as his job would mean that he would never have time to see either of them. And so, Scott was left to hope that after the suicide things would turn out for the better.

With a soft expression, he exited through the back door of the Bowles home, his sympathies reaching out to Susan. And the sad situation of Susan Bowles was the only thing on his mind as he drove back home in the rain in the cool autumn morning.


	5. Chapter 4

And we are back!

Today is the day here we start coming across huge diversions from the main plot of _Heavy Rain_. So one of the first things that I wondered when I played the game was "wait, Scott, if you're partners with Lauren now, why didn't you mention the box and the cell phone? After the reveal, the answer was obvious. Also, his reticence at mentioning the cross-reference of lists.

So those are things that I imagine would change if Scott was actually investigating the murder. Hence, we get this chapter and we go to Manfred's a _lot_ earlier than they did in the game. You know how things are.

So here we are.

* * *

Chapter 4: New Conclusions

Scott looked at the phone in his hands as he grabbed the battery from Hassan's box. He gave it a good look as he eyed it nervously.

He had been trying to get the nerve to insert the battery and put it into the cell phone ever since he had gotten home from visiting Susan Bowles. But the truth of the matter was, he just couldn't work it up. He had gotten to being able to take the battery out of Bowles' phone, but that was it. And now, he was breathing in and out.

He knew he had to find out. And yet, he couldn't shake the nasty feeling that he didn't want to see what was in the cell phone's battery. Something told him it would be something unspeakable.

Scott breathed in. His asthma was starting to annoy him.

_Maybe if I just breathe a little easier I can work up the nerve to at least get the battery in._

With this, he set the battery and cell phone down carefully on the table. He could feel an attack coming, so he reached into his breast pocket and grabbed an inhaler. He took a breath of the inhaler and breathed in and out slowly to let his lungs clear.

_Okay… that should take care of that…_

Scott turned his attention back to the cell phone and the battery. He looked at them, and then picked up the battery. As he suspected, breathing a little easier helped him work up the nerve. Thus, after a few seconds he inserted the battery into the cell phone.

_Okay, the easy part's over with. Now for the other easy part…_

The investigator hesitated greatly, however. He was very afraid of what he would see. Shaking his head, he placed the object down on the desk. He took a few more breaths in and out, covering one side of his face as he rubbed his eyes.

"Why do I get the feeling I'll be regretting seeing what's on this battery?" he asked himself aloud as he rubbed his eye.

He shook his head as he sat back up at his desk. He took another deep breath as he looked at Susan's phone. He wondered how some of the fathers were doing. Hassan was the only one who hadn't left, and the fact that the fathers of two of the victims had abandoned their children was alarming. He had begun to wonder who would even think of doing such a thing to a family in that kind of situation.

He took another breath out as he looked at the battery.

"Fuck…" he muttered to himself. "Okay, Scott, it's just a cell phone. It's like any modern communication device. You turn it on, and something happens. That's all."

After this reassurance, the investigator picked up. He took a deep breath, looking at the phone intently.

And right as he was about to press the power button, he became greatly startled when the doorbell of his apartment rang loudly. He looked over to the door of his apartment, then back at the cell phone in his hand.

_Huh? I wasn't expecting anyone at noon… Hm… Must be another parent who's heard of what I'm trying to do._

"Hold on!" he shouted, standing up and placing the cell phone in the box. "I'll be right with you!"

Scott gently laid the shoebox down on the ground by his desk, looking down at it and nodding briefly as he walked over to the door. When he got to the door, his hand settled on the brass knob and he turned it open slightly.

What he saw there gave him a rather small shock.

"Lauren Winter?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"

It was indeed so, for the mother was standing in front of Scott at the doorway, her attire consisting of a simple shirt, a coat, and jeans. Her gaze seemed determined, and behind her back she was holding something. What it was, Scott couldn't place. But he knew it was important.

"I remembered something," she said. "If you're not busy, that is."

Scott blinked temporarily before opening the door all the way.

"Not particularly, no," he said, gesturing into his apartment. "I'm still working on the Origami Killer case, at any rate. Come in."

The prostituted did as she was told, stepping inside. Scott closed the door after her, and Lauren moved on getting her coat off.

"Here, let me take care of that for you," he said, taking Lauren's coat by the collar and helping it off of her. Her arms complied with his movements, and then he was setting the coat on the coat rack that stood by the door. Lauren turned to the investigator, nodding.

"All right," he said. "Do you want anything to drink?"

Lauren nodded. "I could use a little water," she replied. "I've been a little thirsty this morning."

The investigator nodded at this, gesturing to his desk. "All right," he said. "Take a seat at the desk, and I'll get some for you."

The prostitute looked to his desk and walked over there. As she did, Scott entered the kitchen that was just adjacent to where he was. Upon walking in, he reached into one of the cupboards for a glass. Looking over to the sink, he sidled over to it and poured some tap water into the cup. He looked at it and decided it would be good enough for Lauren.

_Good thing I left my business card,_ he thought tentatively. _Imagine if I hadn't…_

The investigator turned and exited the kitchen, seeing Lauren sit expectantly in the chair in front of his desk. He walked over to her, and noticed the way her posture seemed to dictate how determined she was.

_I've got the feeling she wants more than to give me some evidence,_ he thought. _And I've got a feeling it doesn't have anything to do with her profession, too…_

Scott approached her side, and then handed her the glass of water.

"Here you go," he said as he offered the glass. Lauren looked over to it, and it was then that Scott noticed she had been holding an envelope in her hand the entire time.

"Thanks," she said. Lauren took the glass from Scott, and then drank from it.

The investigator nodded, and walked over to the other side of the desk. He moved his rolling chair and took a last glance at Hassan's shoebox before turning over to Lauren, his legs under his desk as he faced the mother.

"All right," he said. "I guess that you remembered something from the fact that you came to see me in person. What is it?"

Lauren shifted slightly in her seat, crossing her legs as she set the glass down on his desk.

"I remembered something the day after you came to my… apartment," she said, saying the word with a slight amount of hesitance. "The day before Johnny disappeared, I got a letter in the mail. When Johnny actually did disappear, Peter looked at the letter, and ran off with it. It was the last time I ever saw the son of a bitch."

With this, Lauren revealed what she was holding. "I kept the envelope," she said, tossing a white envelope with an address typed onto it. "I don't know why. But when you came over, I remembered something. I don't know if it'll be of any help, but I thought I'd try anyway."

Scott gave a glance at the envelope before picking it up. "Well, it is pretty unremarkable," he said, looking over the envelope. It was then that his eyes squinted when he looked at the address. "Except the address…"

Lauren cocked her head to the side. "My address?" she asked.

"Not the address specifically, but what it was written on," he said, looking at the envelope intently as ideas began to fill his head. "See… this address was typed on an old typewriter. Possibly a very specific model…"

_Yes… I can see how this could be a lead,_ he thought.

"And what's important about that?" asked Lauren.

Scott shrugged before placing the envelope back on his desk and gesturing to the typewriter that was under the lamp. "Well, see, if you have an old typewriter like this, you need to get it repaired periodically," he said. "Those repairs have to come from somewhere, right? Same applies to origami. The killer wouldn't just make origami out of old paper; he'd need a very specialized kind of paper to make the figures. Fortunately, the guys who run the origami and typewriter shops in town are friends of mine. So if I could get inventories from both of the shopkeepers and cross-reference the lists, I could come up with a name. Even if it's a pseudonym, it's still a pretty reliable lead, as most serial killers I've dealt with use a pseudonym that means something significant to them."

Lauren's eyebrow arched pretty high, and she crossed her arms. "I see…" she said.

Scott looked to the envelope before nodding. "Well, that's all I can think of with this envelope," he said. "Thanks, Lauren." He then gave her a rather piercing glance. "Also, something tells me you didn't come here just to give me this envelope."

Lauren nodded. "After you came to me… I began thinking a little," she said. "Johnny was everything to me. I tried getting out of my current occupation for his sake. When he died… I didn't know what I wanted to do. And now… now realize I want answers, now more than ever before. I want to see the son of a bitch who killed my son be brought to justice. I want to become your partner. See this to the very end."

Scott rose his eyebrows at this declaration as he sat up in his seat. _Oh…_ he thought. _Well…_

"Well… I don't know if my friend will take to me letting… well… you know… someone like you be my partner," he said. "Plus, it's dangerous work."

"Mr. Shelby, I want to see what happened to my son, and why," she said. "The police were of no help. You're the only person I can turn to so I can find out."

Lauren gave him a look as she crossed her arms. Scott looked over to her as he pondered her proposal. He said nothing for a few seconds, holding his hands together as he nodded.

_Well…_ he thought. _She is just trying to get answers. And I could use the help…_

"Well, Lauren, you know what they say. 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned'," he quoted. "And besides, this case is getting very convoluted very quickly. I could use the help."

Lauren gave Scott an odd look. "Huh?" she asked. "I figured you'd reject me first."

Scott gestured with his shoulders. "You're looking for answers," he said. "What better way to find them than to be the one who helps me get them? Besides, I know how it feels to want answers. I'm sure you'll be of more help moving around than sitting around waiting for me to say something."

At this, Lauren smiled softly. She extended her right hand over the desk, holding it there in front of Scott. "Partners?"

In turn, the investigator smiled and brought his own hand over to Lauren. He shook it, and nodded. "Partners," he said.

They settled back in their respective chairs, Scott casting a glance at the shoebox down by his desk. He looked at it and nodded, raising a finger.

"Since we're partners now, I think I better bring you up to date on my findings," he said.

With this, he bent to the side and picked up the shoebox. "Now, before you came to me I had visited another group of parents of victims," he said. "One of them supplied me with this box."

And then Scott opened it, Lauren leaning over the chair and recoiling slightly at the sight of the origami figures and the cell phone. Scott looked inside, a frown setting over his face.

"What is this?" she asked.

Scott grabbed some latex gloves and put them on. "I think it's some kind of message," he said. "The man who gave me this was Hassan Mansour, father of Reza Mansour. He told me he received a letter in his mailbox the day before Reza disappeared as well."

"Just like Peter…" muttered Lauren, putting a finger on her mouth. "This can't be coincidence."

"I don't think so either," Scott mentioned as he took out the cell phone. "The mother I visited told me that her husband had disappeared, almost exactly like…"

The both of them were silent at this. They looked to the shoebox, then the cell phone, then each other, before finally resting on the cell phone. They then looked right at each other, coming to the same exact conclusion at exactly the same time.

"The Origami Killer isn't doing this for fun," he says. "He's doing something to the fathers… But what?"

"I don't like this at all," said Lauren. "What would the Origami Figure want with my husband that he needs to kidnap and kill my child? And why is Hassan the only father you've managed to find?"

The investigator looked down at the box before shaking his head. "He was afraid of opening the box," he said. "Now that you mention the letter, I think it's safe to say his fears weren't unfounded…"

"There is something else going on here…" said Lauren, holding her hand. "And I don't like it one bit…"

Scott took a look at the cell phone before putting it down in the box.

"I don't know…" he said. "But I'm not too keen on finding that out just yet…"

He glanced to the envelope that Lauren had just given him. He picked it up, and then stood up.

"I think we should try and see if we can find a name," said Scott. "Maybe even get a backstory. It might help us peer into the killer's mind and see why he would kidnap children and then make their fathers run for them only to kill them…"

Lauren nodded. "I think so too," she said. "Where should we start?"

Scott stood up and gestured to the door. As Lauren walked over there, the ex-cop grabbed her coat and handed it to Lauren. She took it tentatively, putting it on as Scott took his own trenchcoat and put it on.

"We're starting at Manfred's Clocks and Typewriters," he said. "He'll be able to identify the typewriter that typed this letter for us just by looking at it."

Lauren nodded. "All right," she said as Scott walked over to the shoebox and stored it somewhere safe.

The investigator went back to the door after locking the drawer that he had put the shoebox in. As he opened the door, Lauren turned to him.

"Mr. Shelby…" she said. "Do you think we'll be able to catch this guy?"

The investigator paused. The police had come up with nothing on the Origami Killer, many of the families were unavailable for comment, Carter was being of absolutely no help, and he was only an investigator. But at the same time, he had managed to get more evidence and a greater insight into why the Origami Killer was doing what he did than anybody else that had jumped onto the investigation. It was difficult, but Scott was one to be optimistic.

"I think we can," he said with a nod. "No. I know we can. We just have to work fast, and quietly. And that shouldn't be too hard. I promise you, we'll bring the killer to justice no matter what happens."

Lauren smiled softly, her eyes glittering as she walked out. Scott followed her, locking his apartment door and then following the woman out as he put his hands in the pocket of his trenchcoat, storing the envelope in a place where the rain couldn't mar the typeface.

* * *

Manfred had just returned from his lunch break. Maintaining a store such as his own was very difficult work, and unfortunately for the aging man time was going faster than he would have liked to admit. He went about his daily duties as usual, cleaning around the shop as he realized ruefully he didn't have too many customers.

Still, the sprightly old man had a feeling that today would be something special. He only had that feeling, and it brought some warmth to his aging bones to know that for whatever reason he might have something rather unusual happen to him. And he had a good feeling that it would be rather fortunate.

It was such that he was tending to one of the many, many clocks in his shop when he heard the door open close by. He was startled to see a rather rotund man step in, one that he recognized. He turned around, and sure enough Scott Shelby had just walked into the door.

A smile played on his face as the private investigator strolled into the shop, his step determined but his demeanor easing up a little upon seeing the investigator.

"Scotty, old boy!" greeted Manfred.

"Manfred!" greeted the private investigator. "How've you been?"

"These old bones are creaking a little, but I'm still kicking!" he said. "How are you?"

The investigator scoffed. "No less asthmatic than ever," he replied with a short shrug. "But I'm doing fine, if a bit underworked right now."

Manfred nodded in reply. It was then that he noticed Lauren standing behind Scott. With this, the older man gave her a rather friendly look that enticed the prostitute forward. "Oh, and I see you have a friend here…" he said.

"Oh, yes!" said Scott. "Manfred, this is Lauren Winter. I've enlisted her help on a case I'm tackling. Lauren, this is Manfred. He's been a friend of the family for as long as I can remember."

When she approached, Lauren was obviously a little nervous. "Hi," she said, holding a hand out tentatively.

The old shopkeeper laughed before shaking her hand with quite a vivacity that she hadn't expected. "Hello there, Ms. Winter," he greeted. "I hope you don't have anything that's too important right now." He gestured to the clock he had been tending to before Scott had entered. "This clock's chime hasn't been working properly since Saturday."

Scott shrugged. "Well, I am here on business," he said. "We're following a lead on a case. I suppose I can wait a few minutes, though."

"Good," said Manfred, turning his attention back to the clock. "But I don't think you'll have to wait that long. I've just got one more thing that needs to be done..."

As soon as Manfred returned to fixing the clock, however, the phone by a counter rang rather loudly. It startled Lauren slightly, and she turned there with a start. Scott, however, looked over there.

"Oh, could you get that for me?" asked Manfred. "Let them know I'm not available right now."

"Got it," said Scott. The investigator walked over to the phone, stepping behind the counter and walking over to the old black telephone there. Scott picked up the receiver and leaned against the counter.

"Manfred's Clocks and Typewriters," he said. "How may I help you?"

"_Hi, I'd like to speak to Manfred,_" said the voice on the other line. "_My clock just broke. It's an old grandfather clock, and I could use a repair…_"

Scott glanced to where Manfred was, coincidentally, working on a broken clock. "Manfred's not available right now," he said, grabbing a pen and some paper from nearby. "I can take a message for him, though."

"_All right,_" said the voice on the other line. "_When he's available again, tell him to call me at (267)-401-0502. My name is Arthur, if you must know._"

Scott nodded, writing all of it down and clicking the pen against the counter. "All right, Arthur, I'll let him know first chance I get," he said.

"_Thank you, sir,_" he said.

With this, the line went dead, and Scott simply shrugged. He placed the phone back on its holster before taking the paper with him. By the time he walked over to the counter with the jewelry, Manfred was just closing the clock and turning it around. A rather loud chime like the bells of Big Ben sounded out, and Manfred's pose livened up.

"There we go!" he said, turning slowly to Scott and Lauren. "Now that that's out of the way, we can get to more important matters." He looked at the investigators and nodded. "So you're looking into a lead. What… kind of lead?"

The investigator and prostitute both looked to each other. They exchanged nods before Scott fished through his pockets and produced the envelope that Lauren had given him a little before. He placed it onto the counter in front of Manfred, gesturing to the typeface.

"A lead into the Origami Killer case," said Scott.

"Oh, the Origami Killer, huh?" asked Manfred. "What's important about the envelope?"

"We've been noticing something strange, Manfred," said Lauren, crossing her arms. "My son Johnny was one of the victims, and I received that in the mail the day before he disappeared. When my husband looked at it, he took off. I never saw him again."

"We have reason to believe the parents of every victim have received some form of this letter from the killer," added Scott. "When I talked to two of the other parents, both of them said something about getting a letter. One of the husbands disappeared. The other parent… the less I say about him, the better." The investigator gestured to the envelope. "Lauren kept the envelope of her letter. I want to find out what kind of typewriter wrote the address, and who has gotten parts or repairs on that model from this shop."

Manfred nodded. "Getting an inventory, huh?" asked the older man. "What for?"

"I'm thinking of doing some cross-referencing with it later," said the investigator. "Either way, it might lead us to a name."

"Oh!" said Manfred, his expression more surprised than ever. "I see! Give me a moment to get my magnifying glass."

The old man ambled over to the other counter slowly as Scott and Lauren both walked over. The mother picked up the envelope and transferred it to the other counter, leaving it there as the old man finally arrived there. He looked over there and grabbed a small magnifying glass from near where the telephone sat. Looking down at the envelope, he brought the glass and the envelope up to the light. Upon doing so, he looked into it, analyzing the print for a few seconds. They both watched him as he kept an eye on the print.

"All right," said Manfred. "This looks like it was typed on a classic Remington model tyepwriter. It's a model of typewriter dating from the twenties. It's no longer sold anywhere, but it's common enough around here that I still have to repair it from time to time. People come to me asking me to repair those bloody things all the time."

"But you still keep inventory of it," said the investigator.

"Yes," replied Manfred. "If you'll come with me to the back of the shop, I can give you the inventory."

Scott turned to Lauren, the two of them nodding to each other before turning to Manfred. "All right," said Scott. "You're the boss."

With this, Manfred gestured to the two of them, and they both ventured into the back of the shop. There, Manfred looked over to the filing cabinet, and then very slowly opened it. He scanned it along briefly.

As he did Scott couldn't help but feel that if he were any other person, Manfred would be in a lot of trouble. At this suspicion, he glanced behind him, only to be comforted at the sight of Lauren standing there, attentively looking at Manfred.

Scott briefly wondered about Lauren. There was a certain strength in her that he had never quite seen in a woman before. He wasn't sure if it was because of her resolve to find and bring the Origami Killer to justice or because of a gut feeling, but Scott knew from the moment he had set his eyes on Lauren that there was something there. Perhaps a strength of character that she hid underneath her often harsh demeanor, but it was there.

Lauren was so cold and professional in front of strangers. Scott knew this attitude was a little dangerous on her end, and he hoped for her sake as well as his that she would warm up a little bit as time went on. It was a stretch of the imagination to hope so, but Scott held out hope.

They would find the man who killed Johnny Winter. Scott would make sure of it.

After musing on this briefly, Scott was briefly startled by Manfred rising from where he was, holding a brown leather pocketbook in his hand.

"Here we are," he said, cheerfully. "Here's the inventory of everyone who ever got that typewriter repaired in the past three years."

The investigator looked at the brown book before nodding. "Thank you," said Scott, smiling warmly and taking the pocketbook. "I hope you don't mind if I take it with me."

"Not at all," replied Manfred. "You're a friend of the family, remember? How's John doing, by the way?"

Scott froze, with Lauren pausing slightly from turning back towards the main part of the shop. The investigator's shoulders were tense. _Ah, hell,_ he thought.

"He's… distant," replied Scott. "I haven't heard from him for a while. He probably drank himself into a ditch and is trying to find his way home…"

The shop owner looked a little dismayed at this, and shook his head. "Bloody hell…" he muttered. "I kept telling him that drinking like that is really bad for his health…"

Scott shook his head. "I don't know what to make of him," he admitted. "John is unstable. Always was, anyway, and it's worse now with mom the way she is…"

The typewriter shop owner shrugged as slowly the three of them began to file out to the storefront. "Don't worry, Scotty," replied Manfred with a smile. "After all… _Always look on the bright side of life!_" And then the old man began to whistle a tune spiritedly, his speech taking on a more sing-song quality.

"Oh, Manfred," said Scott, shaking his head and smiling while rolling his eyes.

"_Always look on the light side of life!_" continued the older man as he began to sing a song. This went on for a few seconds before Scott finally chuckled at this. Upon hearing that, the older man stopped, gesturing to the investigator.

"See?" he asked. "Things will be looking up!"

The investigator shook his head, Lauren's expression infinitely confused as she looked on. "You still haven't outgrown Monty Python, have you?" he asked.

"Hey, I'll have you know that Michael Palin bought a clock of mine when I was still in England," he replied. "I'll never outgrow it as long as I live."

"Right…" said the investigator as he turned to Lauren and then to Manfred. "Thank you for the help."

Manfred nodded at this. "Just be careful, Scotty," he replied. "And I hope you catch this guy!"

Scott regarded the old man with a nod, and then he and Lauren stepped out into the rain. The investigator stuffed the brown leather book into one of the pockets of his trenchcoat before they both set out in the rain to Scott's car.

"John?" asked Lauren almost as soon as they got to the car.

Scott shook his head as he unlocked the car door. "My brother," he replied. "He's a raging drunkard, though…"

Lauren rose her eyebrows as she stepped into the car next to Scott. "Sounds a lot like Peter," she replied simply. "I figured he'd run away at the first opportunity when his son disappeared. I don't even think he liked Johnny… He was too afraid of children anyway." The woman shook her head, her expression giving away quite a huge amount of resentment. "Coward."

Scott rose an eyebrow at this declaration. "I don't know about that," said Scott as he pulled the gear on the car. "Something tells me that might not be exactly why he left you…"

Lauren shook her head, glancing out the window as Scott drove away from Manfred's shop. "I don't expect you to understand, Mr. Shelby," she replies, her mouth clamped firmly shut. "You think being a sibling of a drunken man is bad? Try being his _wife_ and I'll talk to you again."

The investigator blinked at this as he changed his turn signal at the light, aiming to head to the Origami store in town.

"Please, call me Scott."

And with this, he drove off into the rainy afternoon. If Lauren had paid attention to that last suggestion, she didn't show it.

* * *

The first place Scott drove to immediately after that was the origami shop in town. Scott and Lauren both stepped out of the car, looking on the quaint little establishment as Lauren crossed her arms.

"So this is the place, huh?" she asked.

"Yep," replied the investigator. "Keisuke goes back pretty far with the Shelby family. I'm sure he'll have something to help us with."

"I hope so," said Lauren, looking over to the investigator. "If Manfred was of any help, then I'm sure he will be to…"

Scott shrugged as he walked over to the door. "If nothing else, we've been blessed with insanely good luck so far," he said. "Let's hope it keeps on going that way."

With this, Scott opened the door. A chime was heard overhead, and Lauren looked up briefly to see some wind chimes in a more Japanese style. When she looked around the origami shop, she had to take a double take. The store had all sorts of bright colors inside, from the paper on one side to a few catalogues and instruction books on another. On the far side, there was a rather lanky man at the counter, looking down at the cash register. He looked up, and Lauren felt a little put off by the man's gaze. However, upon seeing Scott, his expression brightened.

"Scott!" he said, a slight Japanese accent permeating his speech. "Long time no see!"

"Same here, Keisuke," replied the investigator. "How've you been?"

"Too good," replied the Japanese man. "Business has been booming ever since the Origami Killer showed up on our doorstep! I could almost bring mother from Okinawa!"

"Indeed," replied Scott. "I take it the family is still well?"

"Completely well, Scott," he replied with a nod. "But I take it you're not here for origami. You subscribed to that catalogue I recommended you earlier."

The investigator nodded. "It's worked out really well so far," replied Scott. "But anyway, on to business." He gestured to the woman by his side. "This is Lauren Winter. She's… a mother of a victim of the Origami Killer."

The prostitute merely nodded (a little too meekly for Scott's taste, but he brushed it off) and looked to Keisuke. "Hi," she said.

"The Origami Killer, huh?" he asked. "What would you come here to find out about him?"

Scott shrugged. "Well, I'm sure he has to get his origami from somewhere, right…?"

"I can assure you he didn't come to me," replied Keisuke. "You have that little faith in me, Scotty?"

The investigator rolled his eyes. "Of course not, Keisuke," he said. "But I'd appreciate it if I could get some form of list. I have something I'd like to cross-reference. See if I can come up with a name. Maybe if he subscribed to a catalogue or a magazine or something… because you get updates from them, right?"

"Occasionally, yes," said the store owner.

"Then do you remember anything at all about recommending a certain catalogue to anybody that looked suspicious?"

Keisuke began rapping his hand against the counter, glancing up at the ceiling while thinking for a little bit. After a bit of time, he nodded.

"About a month before the murders started, there was this man," replied Keisuke. "He came in here wearing a trench coat and this huge hat. It was so big I couldn't see anything apart from his eyes…" Lauren cocked an eyebrow at this, glancing to Scott. Keisuke seemed to notice this. "He was also pretty thin."

The mother crossed her arms. "And what did he do?" she asked.

The shop owner shrugged. "He just asked about a catalogue," he replied. "But I thought it was really strange how he came so concealed… So I gave him a catalogue anyway. But I noted which one it was."

Scott rose his eyebrows at this. "And you think you could get a list of subscribers for that catalogue?" he asked.

"Of course," said Keisuke. "I keep them under the counter. A moment."

With this, the origami store owner dove down under the counter and rummaged through the underside of the counter for some papers very briefly. When he came back up, he had a paper in his hand. The Japanese man shook it briefly, calling attention to it.

"Here," he said. "This is the subscription list for the catalogue. It's a recent update, too; I got it about a week ago in the mail."

Scott gave the paper a brief look as he nodded to Lauren. He took the list and scanned it briefly before nodding. "All right," he says. "We'll use this as some evidence, then. We've got some cross-checking to do to catch this guy. I'll let you know how it goes."

Keisuke nodded. "All right," he said. "Good luck. I hear Shawn Mars will need it."

Scott made to leave, but the last sentence Keisuke said caused him to halt in place. Lauren did the same, looking to the investigator with a look of surprise on her face. They both turned to Keisuke precariously, looking at him with odd eyes.

"Shawn Mars?" asked Scott. "Who the hell is Shawn Mars?"

"You don't know?" asked Keisuke. "With the media storm surrounding his disappearance that started this morning I figured you'd know…"

Lauren and Scott both glanced at each other. _Oh, shit…_ Lauren's eyes reflected the same sense of horror that was in Scott's eyes. The investigator then turned back to Keisuke.

"Oh, dear Lord, don't tell me the Origami Killer's involved…" said the investigator.

"The police have declared it as a kidnapping of the Origami Killer," replied Keisuke. "Why?"

A flood of emotions came in all at once. Now he was under added pressure to solve the crime before yet another child lost his life. He needed to get evidence fast. He was thankful that he was closer to something that could be called a lead than anybody had ever gotten to. He was also thankful he had taken Lauren on.

But perhaps most prevalently, there was a feeling of anger. The Origami Killer was striking again. The thought of what the poor children could be going through terrified Scott, but at the same time, it strengthened his resolve thanks to the anger.

However, the Origami Killer was not the only subject of Scott's anger. If anything, the second subject drew his anger most. And so, he shouted the first person that came to mind right there in Keisuke's shop.

"_Carter!_"


	6. Chapter 5

All right. We're back with more _Leads._

Apologies for the lack of updates. I just spent a couple of weeks finishing up my Mass Effect self-insert _Mass Vexations_, and am taking a break between that and MV2 so I can get to other stuff.

Namely, this. Expect more updates of this and _The Tales We Tell _for the next few months. So let's get to it!

* * *

Chapter 5: Revelations

"God damn it, Carter, you couldn't even be bothered to tell me that you had a possible new victim on the case?"

"Relax, Scott."

"Relax? This is a child's _life_ we're talking about here! How can you possibly tell me to _relax_? Now I have to race against the clock before the kid winds up dead, and you're definitely not helping me here!"

"Look, we're looking into leads, too. Don't worry; we'll catch this killer and save the kid. And you can help with that, seeing as how you look like you're coming up with quite a few things. I'm as frustrated as you are about the new victim."

"It would've been nice to hear it from you instead of the guy who works at the Origami shop!"

"I was busy, all right? We've got... people here helping us. He's running up and down my ass with all this 'regulations' bullshit and how we can't go around. I just want to have the killer behind bars so he can't kill any more children."

"Yeah, I get that. You're so eager to catch the killer that you left me in the dust!"

"Look, it won't happen again, all right? Let me know what you come up with, and I'll see what we can do. All right, Scotty?"

"All right, fine. I'll call you when I have definitive leads."

With this, Scott hung up on Carter, the phone on his desk banging rather loudly against the reciever as he hung up. He promptly brought his hands onto his forehead, letting out a sigh as he sat at his desk. Lauren was seated in the chair on the other side of the desk, biting her lower lip as her fingers drummed against the armrest. Her face was impassive, but her eyes betrayed a small sense of anger as the investigator shook his head. He shifted in his chair before bringing his head back up.

"Jesus Christ..." said the investigator. "I can't believe he would just leave me out of that bit of information like I didn't even exist. I wish he could've left even a voicemail..."

"Didn't you forget to tell him about what we've found?" asked Lauren.

Scott shook his head. "I tried to tell him about that from the moment I got the box from Mr. Mansour," he replied bitterly. "But he was busy. Same when I got the cell phone from the mother. And the one time he's not busy? I have to shout at him." Scott shook his head. "I should've seen this coming. He was always pretty overzealous during a murder investigation. It was bad enough when I was there; I see it's only gotten worse since I left the force. Especially thanks to the fact that this is one of the most covered murderers in recent history. Next thing I know he's going to be beating the shit out of suspects..."

Lauren shook her head sadly. "That doesn't sound so good," she said.

The investigator shook his head before looking down on his desk. "I hope he doesn't," said Scott. "If he beats a confession out of the suspects, that evidence will be laughed right out of the courtroom when they bring the suspect to court. And that'll only set us further back on the Origami Killer case, because the people won't have a reliable police force."

"You think he'll beat suspects?" asked the prostitute.

Scott shrugged lightly. "I wouldn't put it past him," he replied. "He beat suspects pretty frequently when he first joined the force. I managed to temper him greatly when he became my partner... but I'm afraid that with the way things are he might just resort to beating people again. Especially since he always hated media coverage."

"Why is that such a bad thing?" she asked.

"In a case like this?" asked Scott. "They get in the way of the investigation more than any other thing. It's not easy trying to dodge reporters when you're trying to get evidence to the coroner. Also, it doesn't help when they deliberately change information to sensationalize the case."

The woman nodded a little more grimly. "This case is getting crazier by the second..." she mentioned.

"That it is," said Scott, drumming his fingers. "Well, we have another victim in sight, so there's no real use sitting here doing nothing. Let's get some cross-checking done."

Scott then looked to the two lists, handing Manfred's list to Lauren and taking a hold of Keisuke's list as Scott stood up. He wheeled his chair around to Lauren's end, grabbing a sheet of paper and a pencil as soon as he set the chair next to the woman he was working with. He sat down, Lauren looking on with a stone-faced expression as he looked at his list. She regarded him with a hard glance as Scott glanced at her.

Her expression since they had started working together had not been too kind. Scott had wondered why this was if she seemed so relieved to be finally on her way to answers. The investigator ignored it at first, but there was undoubtedly something stony about Lauren's demeanor. Scott figured it must have come from Lauren's occupation as a prostitute and brushed it off.

_Eh. It's probaby best if I don't mention it. Don't want to make her angrier than she probably already is..._

With this, Scott turned his attention to his list, and Lauren did the same thing. Scott lifted his list and looked at the first name on the list.

"All right, let's do it this way," said the investigator. "Does your list make mention of a Dominic Cobb?"

Lauren looked down her list slowly, going down the names with a thumb. After a few seconds, she shook her head.

"No..." she replied.

Scott looked at Manfred's list again, crossing out the man's name in his mind. He looked at the rest of the list, looking down the names and biting his lower lip.

"Lawrence Cobb?"

Lauren looked down her list again, shaking her head when they were unable to find a match. Scott held his list a little more firmly in his hand as his fingers rapped across the leather of the book. They went down the list of names similarly, having almost no luck in matching anything. Occasionally, Scott would ask Lauren to read names off of her list, but they were met with equal success. This went on for about ten minutes, and both of them were beginning to lose hope about everything.

And then, Scott looked at one particular name on his list. Upon seeing the name, he nearly did a double take, his eyes widening in shock. _What? But this is impossible..._

Lauren seemed to take notice of this, and shifting slightly in her chair she looked over to the investigator. "Mr. Shelby?" she asked.

He blinked at this. The name was still the same. He took in a deep breath of air, not liking where this was going.

"James Sheppard?"

Lauren looked down her list of names after Scott said this, her eyes keen as they glanced across the page. She stopped after a brief period, and was absolutely still for a second. Her finger stayed on one particular line before she bit her bottom lip lightly, taking a shaky breath.

"Yes..." she said. "His name is on this list. James Sheppard..."

Scott looked down at his list, and then at the paper that he had set on the desk. Taking a deep breath and feeling his asthma almost catch up to him, he leaned forward and wrote his name. The stress was beginning to get to him slightly, but he figured it would not lead to an asthma attack just yet. He took another deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. With this, he continued reading down the list.

But that was the only name that matched. They finished their cross-reference shortly afterwards, and the name of James Sheppard was the only name on the list. Scott took the list in his hand, the paper slightly shaking as he looked at it in disbelief.

"James Shepard..." said Lauren. "What's so special about him?"

"I knew him when I was a boy..." said Scott, blinking. "We went to the same school together. I didn't know him all too well, as he was always so withdrawn... I... I don't understand."

The woman shrugged. "Serial killers always know someone," she replied.

"That's not it," replied the investigator, his hand shaking slightly. "There's something else about this that I don't get..."

Now the prostitute was curious. She shifted in her seat, an arm coming over one of her legs as she gave him a look. "What, then?" she asked.

Scott put the paper down, shaking his head and looking to his partner. He blinked once, his hand clenching and unclenching softly as his jaw worked. Finally, he just said what was on his mind.

"He died when he was 9 years old."

Lauren started, her hands compulsively gripping the arm rests as she looked on this. "What?" she asked.

"I know," said Scott. "I wasn't old enough to understand what happened back then, but one day he didn't show up for school. And then they had to tell us all that he was dead." He put his hands in his pocket, his expression still disbelieving. "He never spoke about his family life... And we know that he died very close to home... I don't know what happened..."

The prostitute nodded then, standing up and looking outside. "I have the feeling we'll have to find out soon..."

Scott looked outside of the window briefly before nodding. "That we will," he said, standing up as well. "I still don't understand this, though..."

"Maybe there was someone that he never talked about," she said, wringing her hands together. "You did say earlier that pseudonyms mean something to whoever is a serial killer."

The investigator blinked at this. _Oh! I completely forgot about that..._ "That's true..." he replied. "But I'm still a little unsure of what this means... I just don't know who would want to use James' name to cover himself. He never had any friends, he never spoke about his family... so who?"

Lauren offered a small pat on the shoulder to Scott as she walked over to the door. "Let's go to the graveyard," she said. "Maybe there we can find some answers."

The investigator sat in his seat for a second, blinking as he looked at the window that Lauren was also looking at.

_You know what? That's not such a bad idea. It's the only thing we can go on right now other than getting swamped in paperwork that will likely take longer than it takes to find Shawn Mars..._

He nodded after this, standing up and walking to the door. "Well, all right," he said. "Let's just hope we get lucky."

* * *

It was still raining when they arrived at the graveyard. _If it keeps raining like this, I fear we may have a flood advisory..._ He drove the car up to the pavement, looking over to the graveyard that was right there as he did.

"Well, here we are," said the investigator. "The graveyard where James Shepard is buried at..."

Lauren nodded at this. "So where is his grave?" she asked.

"Hell if I know," said Scott. "I never saw his grave, and nobody at school ever told us about his grave. But... here we are. We might as well find the grave..."

With this, Scott opened the car door and stepped out into the rain. A second later, Lauren followed tentatively, the two of them gazing out onto the graveyard in the rain. Scott looked to Lauren briefly, seeing the prostitute was shaken.

_Poor thing..._ he thought briefly. _Johnny was probably buried here..._

With this in mind, Scott came forward, moving over to Lauren as she stood resolutely there. He left a hand on her shoulder, looking at the graveyard.

"You know... my father was buried here, too," he said. "You're not the only one with someone buried here. If you're not comfortable..."

But the prostitute shook her head. "No, I'll be all right," she said. "Thanks anyway."

Scott patted her shoulder, and then the two of them together entered the graveyard. It was mostly empty, except for a few people. There were many graves all around, and Scott could tell the exact location of his father's grave from where he was. He never forgot the gunshot wound that ended his father's life, as he watched helplessly from the closet. Scott couldn't remember ever having been more afraid for his life, and he could never remember anything worse than seeing his father die in front of his very eyes.

He shrugged the memory off, biting his lower lip in a rare display of uncertainty. He and Lauren disconnected, and then they noticed someone leaving the graveyard.

"Um... excuse me sir," said Scott as he entered. "Would you happen to know where I can find the grave of James Sheppard? He died when he was nine?"

The man blinked, looking over the graveyard. "I wouldn't know for sure," he says. "However, if you're looking for someone who died young, you might want to look in the children's plot. It's over that way." The man pointed to an area just ahead of Scott and to the right. The investigator took a look at this before nodding.

"Thank you," said the investigator.

The man nodded in reply before leaving. Scott looked over to Lauren, hoping for some kind of confirmation. They nodded to each other then, and then they both walked over to the children's plot. They were both silent as they moved in the graveyard, the mood sombre. Neither of them broke the silence that took hold of the air around them as they walked in the graveyard. Not even when they reached the children's plot. Scott sincerely hoped he would not have to walk by Johnny's grave; the last thing Lauren needed was a reminder of her own loss.

They had very little trouble finding Sheppard's grave, fortunately. As Scott looked around, he thought he saw an origami figure and an orchid laid out in front of one of the grave. Scott patted Lauren's hand as she looked around, and quietly directed her attention to the grave of James Sheppard.

They came to a stop, seeing the headstone. Indeed, there were the Origami Killer's signatures. An orchid laid there, glistening in the rain. Scott knelt down and inspected the flower.

"It's freshly cut," commented the investigator. "We're at the right place..."

Lauren's gaze shifted over to the origami figure that lay there. "And there's a figure there, too..." she comments. "It doesn't look like it's been through as many days of rainfall as anything else..."

Scott looked to the Origami figure. He took the figure in his hands, feeling the material. Indeed, the paper was not as wet as it should have been for standing there for a few days. He nodded and stood up.

"This grave was visited recently," he said.

Lauren looked up. "Maybe this person was close to the killer..." she speculated.

"I wouldn't doubt it," replied Scott, looking down at the grave. "My only question is, who visited it recenty, and what was the killer's relationship to James Sheppard?"

Lauren looked down at the grave. "I wonder if someone visits this grave every day..." she said.

"That it is, ma'am. That grave you're standin' at is visited by the same man every day. Always has been ever since I've been workin' here."

Scott and Lauren both turned at the sound of the voice. An older black gravedigger stood there, his clothes thoroughly soaked as he held a shovel in his hand. He had apparently just been digging a grave for someone next to Sheppard's plot when he had overheard Lauren and Scott talking. The man had a friendly look about his face, and Scott thought briefly that it was sad that such a nice-looking man had to resort to work like this to make a living. But the markings of age were prevalent on the man's face, fine lines defining his forehead as he looked to the investigator.

"Really?" asked Scott. _Hm... looks like we could get a face and a name... _"Who?"

"Gideon Kramer, sir," replied the gravedigger. "He owned the plot of land that James Sheppard's family lived on."

Lauren and Scott instantly turned to each other, and they both read the surprise evident in their facial expressions. They turned back to the gravedigger, one of them raising his eyebrows.

"Gideon Kramer?" asked Scott. "As in, the construction tycoon?"

The gravedigger nodded. "That's the one, sir," replied the worker. "He feels sorry for James, so he visits here every day of the week."

"Do you ever see him?" asked Lauren.

"Sometimes," replied the man. "He usually comes pretty late at night, though. I'm sometimes digging a grave when he shows up, but it's usually not my shift. We've never talked all that much; just chatter between two men."

"And what do you talk about?" asked Lauren.

The man shrugged. "James," he said. "Sometimes he talks about Sheppard's daddy... Sometimes the kid's brother... Sometimes the kid's momma too, but we don't talk 'bout that too long."

Scott jolted violently at this. "Wait..." he said. "You mean... he had a brother?"

The man nodded simply. "He was just five years old when James died," he said. "They were playin' on his construction site. I really don't know what they were playin', jus' that they were all over the site... It was a really rainy day too." The investigator began to feel a chill settling in his spine. _Oh, no..._ "James got trapped in a ditch that was fillin' with rainwater. The little boy tried to get help... but he couldn't find it..."

Lauren and Scott looked to each other, their eyes reading the exact same thing. The investigator then turned back to the gravedigger, his hands behind his back.

"Do you know what happened to his brother after that?" asked Scott.

"No, sir," replied the stranger. "Last I heard, he got picked up by a foster family. After that, nobody I know knows nothin' about it. It's like he went poof..."

"I see..." said the investigator. A terrifying thought came to him then; a thought that was so terrifying his hands actually shook involuntarily for a brief moment. He swallowed before asking his next question.

"And where was the boy's father when this happened?"

The gravedigger shrugged. "I dunno, sir," he replied. "But from what I hear, he was the reason they were playin' outside. He was a drunk bastard, you see. Always had a bottle of beer in hand. He beat 'is wife, too. So he kicked the kids out of the house, and they ended up playin' there in the construction site." There was a breif pause as his grip on his shovel shifted a little. "I hear that the kid went to him first, sir. But he refused to do anything, he was so drunk. That's what I hear, but I don't know if it's true..."

Lauren's posture instantly stiffened, and Scott cast a glance at his partner. _Can't say I blame her. Probably reminds her too much of Peter..._ The investigator let out a breath.

"Why are you axeing so many questions, sir?" he asks. "Most people I know that come here don't like listenin' to no stories, you know."

Scott blinked, holding his hands behind him. "I'm looking into someone," he said. "I think that someone's using James' name to do some horrible stuff."

Before the gravedigger could ask, Scott gestured to the items on the grave. In understanding, the man gave a hushed nod, realizing what Scott meant.

"I... I see, sir..." he said. "Do you think that Mr. Kramer-?"

"Doubt it," replied Scott. "I think I have a good idea of who it might be... Thank you, sir."

He nodded as Scott and Lauren both turned to leave. "You're welcome, sir," he said. "Just be careful. I hear the world's a dangerous place this time o' year!"

With this, the investigator and the prostitute both left the graveyard. At the gates, Scott shivered slightly as Lauren looked at him. Her facial expression was aghast with some kind of horror. She looked to Scott with disbelief in her eyes, almost as if she did not want to believe what she and Scott had both only just heard.

"Please don't tell me..." she said.

Scott looked behind him. "It's the only thing that makes sense..." he said, shaking his head. "But I don't like it one bit..."

Lauren shook her head, the fear in her eyes eminent... "I hope... If you're thinking what I'm thinking..."

The investigator blinked, looking back at the graveyard. "I... I hope we're not..." he replied.

He looked down to the prostitute. _Shit... If what I think is happening is happening... Oh no..._

"I think it's time we checked the box again. I want to see if my hunch is correct."

* * *

When they arrived back at Scott's apartment a half an hour later, neither of them said anything. There was nothing that needed to be said, after all. Lauren and Scott had been silent the entire ride back to that effect.

And so, when they reentered the apartment, Scott made a beeline for his desk, seeing the box was still there. He lifted the lid from the box, and after quickly putting on some latex gloves he pulled the cell phone out of the box. He held the cell phone in front of his face briefly, taking a few deep breaths. He realizes that he's precariously close to having an asthma attack from the stress, but he tries not to mind.

His heart was beating faster than it ever had before in his life as Lauren came to stand next to him. The man's finger hovered over the cell phone's power button, his eyes looking down on the object in trepidation as he hoped to God his hunch was wrong.

Lauren was also very frightened thanks to what waited within the cell phone's memory. Her breath came in short gasps, and there was nothing quite like what she had felt before. Neither one of them were looking forward to what they were seeing.

But in the end, they both agreed that it had to be done.

"Here goes."

And with this, Scott found the courage to press the power button on the cell phone.

The screen sprang to life to grey static. It held this for about a second before the screen got better definition. A loading bar appeared shortly after, and the bar filled up pretty quickly. Scott's fingers were trembling slightly in fear at what they would see. As the loading bar filled, Scott could have sworn he saw a silhouette of something.

And then, when the bar finished, it cut to a video of a boy. The boy was definitely Reza Mansour, the boy still more or less alive. However, the boy was trapped under a locked grate that covered a ditch. The ditch seemed to be in an area in which rain water was constantly pouring. The ditch was already partly filled with water, the water coming up to the boy's waist as he seemed to be suspended in there.

The two of them recoiled in shock at seeing this. "Papa, where are you?" shouted Reza, slight accent coming out of the audio with a hint of despair that must have plagued Reza Mansour's final days. "I'm so cold... Papa..."

"Oh my God..." muttered Lauren, watching the video in shock. A tear streaked down her eye upon seeing this.

_This... Every other victim died this way?_ though Scott, nearing the verge of tears himself. His lower jaw quivered, not sure what to make of the rage of shock, sadness, and anger that welled up in him at that moment.

After the video played for a few more seconds, it cut away to a backdrop with text on it. The text that Scott read sent chills down his spine, and wracked at his conscience as soon as he saw it.

_How far are you prepared to go to save someone you love?_

The message stayed in place for a few more seconds, the connotation clear enough.

Scott Shelby's worst fears were confirmed by that one message. It was exactly as he suspected. The Origami Killer was testing the fathers of his victims. Trying to see how far they would go. It was a motive that was beyond anything Scott had ever seen, both in his days as a police officer and as a private investigator. And it explained the disappearance of the fathers of Johnny Winter and Jeremy Bowles, as well as the disappearance of every other father that the Origami Killer had come in contact with.

_Oh my God..._ he thought to himself, feeling the tear finally travel down his face as his jaw quivered uncertainly. _Oh my God..._

But there was more, and Scott felt his heart sink as he watched the message change again. There were blanks that were provided, almost as in a game of hangman. Below were instructions that shocked Scott to an even greater degree than he already was.

_Five Origami figures. Each figure is a trial. Each trial provides letters. The letters reveal an address._

The message hovered in place for what felt like an eternity before Scott looked away from the phone. The man nearly suffered an asthma attack, but it was through sheer force of will that he did not start violently hacking.

There was dead silence in the apartment for what felt like an eternity. The revelation of what they had just seen was horrific to both of them, and as they tried to sort it out in their minds they found themselves at a loss to describe the kind of monster the Origami Killer was. They had no words to describe what the killer was doing, but what scared them even more was what this meant for the fathers. Now they realized that they did not run because they were afraid, but because they were afraid for their son's welfares.

The possibility of what might have entailed during the trials was perhaps most shocking of all.

But the emotions were so tightly packed that they had nowhere to start.

And poor Lauren was overwhelmed. The investigator knew that seeing all this new information could not have been good for her, having to come to terms not only with how her son died, but also a new truth about Peter.

This caught up with the mother quickly, for then her wail of combined grief and shock shattered the silence inside the apartment as she rose her hands in the air. The tears streamed down her face relentlessly, but she was unable to summon words to describe her anguish.

It was all she could do before she found herself grasping the former cop's shoulder, letting all of her tears loose as the man stood petrified, his hands still holding the cell phone as it quietly died.


	7. Chapter 6

All right.

So last time, we found out what happened to Johnny. Well, they did anyway. Lauren is not going to take it well, I can tell you that much. It'll defrost her a little bit. Which is nice, because defrosting ice queens are always good things.

So yeah, here's the next chapter, in which Scott and Lauren go off and do stuff! What sort of stuff?

Well... they have a box of origami figures... And the origami figures lead to a trial... and that's the only place they have left to go for now... So yeah. You do the math.

* * *

Chapter 6: The Buttefly Part 2

"Why? Why would anybody do that to Johnny? I don't understand!"

A half an hour later, Lauren was still bawling over the information on the cell phone. After the initial shock died away, they managed to get it processed through their minds. But the truth was far worse than either of them had anticipated.

They both sat on the couch close to Scott's desk. Lauren picked up another tissue from the tissue box in front of her, blowing into it and adding yet another tissue to the wastebasket that was close by. She continually shok her head.

The investigator wasn't in much of a good mood either. Everything about what he had just seen bothered him to no end. He had simply taken to leaving an arm slung over Lauren's shoulders. He had said very little since they had watched the video on the cell phone. Lauren understood; the investigator was having a tough time trying to formulate words to cmfort her with, because no matter what he could say it never seemed to be enough.

So they sat as Lauren moaned about the fate of her son.

Scott shook his head when his partner asked herself the same question she had been asking for the past fifteen minutes.

"Who knows...?" asked Scott in reply. "Your son didn't deserve it..."

Lauren looked over to the investigator, sadness greatly prevalent in her eyes. "I know!" she said, new tears hanging on her eyes. "That's why I'm so confused! He was a good boy..."

She shook her head, setting the tissue into the nearby wastebasket. "But this..." she said, bringing her arms around so she was hugging herself. "Oh, Peter..." The former cop nodded in agreement. "What happened to Peter...? I... I thought he was just being a coward. But... what if he's... And what if he...?"

Scott shook his own head, feeling a tear slipping down his own eye. Neither of them said anything for a while after that, Lauren's sniffling making sure a complete silence never took hold. The investigator wiped a few tears from his eyes with his own fingers as he looked outside to the rain. Thinking about Shawn Mars trapped in the same predicament that Reza Mansour had been in before he died. How the poor kid must have been suffering was something that Scott couldn't quite fathom. Nobody could understand it.

He briefly called into question what sort of mind would do that. The Origami Killer was obviously sick, but it wasmore so than any other killer that had come before him. Scott couldn't believe someone could actually imagine waiting for death in such a slow, agonizing manner. If they didn't die of hypothermia or some other horrible disease, they would die of drowning after a while. It was horrific, and Scott couldn't imagine how much suffering Shawn was going through.

It was when he thought of this that he realized the killer had to be stopped, no matter the cost.

He looked over to Lauren, and then he saw the same look in her eyes, if tinged with a little more sadness than before.

"We have to stop this man..." said Scott. "It's up to us to make sure he doesn't do this to any more children."

Lauren nodded her agreement. "He will pay with blood for what he did to Johnny and Peter," she said.

The two of them gave each other more or less grim looks before Scott stood up. He walked over to the box, and took it off the desk. He brought the box over to the coffee table that Lauren and he were sitting at, and then he opened it. After applying latex gloves, he gestured to the origami figures.

"Each figure leads to a trial," said the investigator. "Take your pick, and we'll see just what these trials entail."

Lauren took a look at the origami figures, a frown on her face. She looked at each figure as Scott handed her latex gloves. The woman gave a stern frown at the objects that lay there. She put the latex gloves on, her frown only intensifying as she eyed each origami figure. A bear, a butterfly, a lizard, a shark, and a rat all lay before her, all of them looking at her.

No more. She decided then and there to end it.

She reached into the box and pulled out the butterfly. She unfolded the origami figure, her hands having found new purpose. As the figure unfolded, Scott leaned over the prostitute, her expression stony as she looked at the butterfly. Finally, it unfolded to reveal a square, with an address written on it in very small print. Scott squinted at this address, with Lauren holding it out so he could see.

_No way..._

"I thought that place was abandoned..." said Scott.

"Why?" asked the prostitute.

"This is the old power plant," replied the investigator. "Something dark is going on in there..."

"Something that Peter probably had to go through..." added Lauren bitterly, her stony facade faltering a little bit. "I..."

Scott put a reassuring hand on Lauren's shoulder as she lost her stony expression, a low tear sliding down her eye. "Don't worry," said Scott. "We'll get to the bottom of this. And we'll find out what happened to Peter..."

Lauren nodded slowly.

"I don't think I'll like what I see..." she said. "About what happened to Peter... About what the killer did to him..."

Scott did not miss the significance of her voice cracking when she said Peter's name. She blinked, another tear falling as she stood up. She gave the figure to the investigator, who took it with a hand. She balled her hands into fists at this and nodded at Scott.

"Let's go see this power plant," she said, her voice assertive despite her quivering lower lip.

Scott nodded, and then the two of them left the apartment without saying much else.

* * *

The car pulled up in front of the old power plant slowly, with Scott and Lauren both looking at it with a certain trepidation in their eyes. They thought they saw another car that was parked there a mere few seconds earlier drive away before they got there. But it sped off, so Scott decided it would be best not to mention it to Lauren.

"Well, here we are..." said Scott. "The old power plant..."

Lauren nodded, her grief and anger at the Origami Killer having eroded with the time. Her determination had not waned, however, and she looked over there.

"You think we'll find something here?" she asked.

"Yeah," replied Scott, looking at the power plant. "Let's go. We don't have much time to waste, and we don't know what's in there..."

And with this, the investigator and the prostitute both stepped out of the car in the rain, looking over at the abandoned building. There was an air of decay as they looked at it. Scott's eyes scanned the area as they both beheld the abandoned plant. They both scoped the place before Scott checked the location the car had just driven off to before they looked around.

"Well, the gate's probably not working, so there's gotta be another way around..." said Scott.

But Lauren was already looking for another way in. Before Scott could comment further, Lauren tugged on his sleeve and pointed in a certain direction. "What about that?"

Scott followed her eyes and noticed that a small section of the surrounding wall had been torn down by something. There was a small rise there that went into the plant, and on the wall there was a graffiti of a butterfly that seemed to hover over the bricks. The investigator beheld this detail before walking over. Taking good care, he noticed three large stones that stood there rather prominently, slightly slick in the rain but still able to be stood on. Scott gave these a glance before he hefted himself onto one of the stones, hauling himself up so that he could look beyond it.

And as Lauren had predicted, the ruined wall led into the power plant. The bricks had fallen into a slide pattern around there, the bricks slick in the rain.

He turned to his partner then and nodded.

"Yeah, looks like this is the only way in..."

Lauren followed him soon after, the investigator helping her up the stones as he himself climbed up them. He began to feel himself breathe a little faster, but he patted the inhaler in his pocket and knew he would be fine. He slid down the brick slide quickly, Lauren following suit. It was then that they both began to feel a certain sense of dread come over them.

The prostitute glanced to the side and saw another butterfly graffittied into the wall. She indicated it to Scott, the investigator looking at the thing with great doubt in his mind.

"I think we're supposed to follow the butterfly..." she said, her voice uncertain.

Scott nodded. "Well, let's hope it'll lead us to the trial..." he commented.

And so, they followed the butterfly graffiti through the power plant's exterior. As they moved, Lauren looked over there.

"I... I can't help but think about Peter..." she said, her voice not hiding her trepidation.

"Why's that?" asked the investigator.

The woman looked on as they came to a barbed wire fence. "There was something in his eyes when he read that letter," she admitted. "I didn't think much of it then, but now that we're doing this..."

The investigator parted the barbed wire where there was a hole, indicating to the prostitute to go through first. "It must have been fear," she said as she took the indication and went through first. "If he made it this far... I can't say I blame him..."

Scott shook his head as he parted the barbed wire just a little bit. Lauren saw his dilemma and ended up helping spread the barbed wire a little further apart so the overweight man could fit his body into the small hole.

"I'm not gonna lie," he said as he moved through the hole, feeling the barbs point into his body fat as Lauren ended up forcing one of the wires down with her foot. "This scares me a little too..."

The overweight man finally hefted himself through at this sentence, and Lauren released the barbed wire, the wires coming together with a loud snap before finally stilling. They looked to another barbed wire fence before Scott lifted this barbed wire as well. The prostitute went first as before, her thin frame going through the barbed wire with relative ease. When Lauren turned and forced the barbed wire apart for Scott, a question suddenly came to mind.

"You said you had an alcoholic brother," she said.

"I do," replied Scott, slowy forcing himself through the hole in the barbed wire. He gritted his teeth as the barbs bit into his belly fat, but he paid no heed as he attempted to force himself through the hole. "He was the more volatile of the two of us. I guess growing up knowing what happened to his father did that to him."

He let out an exhale as he finally got through the hole. He stumbled briefly from the force, but he managed to right himself before he could fall over. Lauren crossed her arms at this, the rain coming down on both of them.

"And what happened to your father?" she asked.

"Shot and killed," replied Scott, shaking his head sadly. "He... I was too young to understand it then, but he was involved in a drug ring. And he was behind in payments, so the people found him and killed him..."

At this, Lauren's eyebrows cocked up, her eyes widening in some mixture of surprise and shock as she beheld the investigator. "Oh... Oh no..." she said. "I..."

"He always knew..." added the investigator. "I was too young to understand. I actually ended up joining law enforcement to make sure that nothing like what happened to him ended up happening to anybody else..."

"And what if you couldn't help?" asked Lauren, looking over to the investigator.

He licked his lips for a second, looking over to the power plant as he suddenly realized that there were a series of electrical condensers from where they were.

"Then I did my best," he said, looking around the scenery around them. "All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. Edmund Burke said that once."

The mother nodded, looking down at herself. "I see..." she said, hugging herself.

Scott could tell that something was going through her mind. Exactly what, he figured he knew. _Poor woman must be going through a lot... Especially with everything that happened and all..._

With this, the investigator placed a reassuring hand on Lauren's shoulder, the prostitute looking up at him as he nodded.

"You're something special, Lauren," he said. "Your resolve is one of the most admirable I've ever seen. If you weren't a good person... I doubt you'd be standing here right now. You're doing the right thing."

The woman looked at Scott before nodding. She looked over to the power plant, and then back to Scott.

"Thanks..." she said. "I... I wasn't able to help him out of my lifestyle... No matter how hard I tried. I tried. I really did... But nothing seemed to work. I just want Shaun Mars' parents to be able to raise their son in happiness. To... to get the chance I wasn't able to get with Johnny. If... I guess Edmund Burke was right. I can't just sit here while he could die. I'll fight to make sure he lives..."

Scott nodded, opting not to say anything about Lauren'swords as they both looked to the power plant's building. The investigator nodded at the building, pointing at it with a finger.

"Then let's not sit here any longer," said the investigator. "Let's go see what's inside that power plant."

And the two of them sauntered off in the middle of the condenser field, Lauren having found new courage in her step, looking off to the power plant as Scott followed behind, his hands in his pockets and his fingers lightly playing with the inhaler just in case he had an attack inside the power plant.

* * *

The two of them eventually came into a room. It was a rather small one, but it was still quite eerie. At the opposite end was a strange vent that came up to Lauren. The door was closed, and the mother and investigator both approached it with a small amount of trepidation. The butterfly was graffitied into the door, and they approached it slowly.

The investigator's hands rested on the rotary handle, looking at it. The door obviously hadn't been closed before hand, and Scott gripped it. He pulled back, the investigator surprised at how easily the door swung open. Scott and Lauren both looked into the passageway ahead of them, not sure of what to think about what they were looking at. The vent hid within a veil of impenetrable darkness, the darkness enough to offsettle anything. Scott rose his eyebrows as he looked inside.

"I guess the killer wanted the father to crawl through this passageway..." said the mother.

"Seems like an odd thing to ask of someone who says 'how far are you willing to go'..." said Scott. "I hope these fathers didn't have claustrophobia."

Lauren shook her head. "I hope you brought a flashlight..."

Scott shrugged before reaching into the pocket of his pants. He rummaged around it before he rose his eyebrows. He then pulled out a small matchbox, presenting it to Lauren with a small gesture of his shoulders.

"I've got a matchbox," he said. "It's the closest thing we can get right now."

Lauren nodded, taking the matchbox in her hand as she looked down the passageway. She opened the box, taking out a match and striking against the side of the matchbox. The flame erupted brilliantly, and then Lauren held it up to the passageway. Neither the woman nor the investigator could see what else was within, however. They both looked to each other before Lauren shook the match, the flame going out unceremoniously as she looked in.

"Well... where does this thing lead?" asked the mother.

"I don't know..." said Scott. "I don't like this one bit."

The mother looked into the passageway again, a shiver coming down her spine briefly as she bit her lower lip. Finally, she nodded.

"I'm going in," she said.

The investigator blinked at this. "Lauren, are you sure...?" he asked. "You don't know what you're going to find in there..."

"We'll never know unless we go through it..." she replied. "I've got some plastic bags in case I come across anything. I want to find out what Peter went through..."

Scott nodded, admiring the woman's determination. "All right," he said. "I'll stay here and make sure this door doesn't close on you. I'll be waiting out here..."

The prostitute nodded, looking into the passageway. She gripped the matchbox a little tighter in her hand as she breathed in and out. Her free hand came out to the top of the vent, and then she slowly climbed in. Her legs seemed to work lithely as she crawled into the small space, the woman laying against the ground of it briefly. She took a couple more breaths before Scott saw her climb deeper into the vent. Eventually, she disappeared from his line of sight.

The investigator watched her go, and he was reminded for a brief second of his own resolve in the first murder case he ever took as a police officer. He admired this quality in Lauren, that she would willingly go to lengths that Scott would normally hesitate at. It gave him renewed strength that they would be able to bring the Origami Killer to justice. Her resolve was unshakeable, and Scott liked this in Lauren.

_She's a tough cookie,_ he thought. _It'll help us a lot._

And with this, the investigator nodded, his thoughts trailing off as he stood there.

His train of thought was rudely interrupted by Lauren letting out a harsh cry of pain from within. Scott started at this, hearing her swear loudly as well. He leaned into the passageway, concern on his face.

"Lauren, are you all right in there?" he asked.

"I think I cut myself on something!" said the woman. "But I don't know what it is... Hang on..."

He heard the rustle of Lauren's body, and then a very faint light was visible deeper within the passage as the sound of a match being struck echoed in the passageway. Scott thought for a second that it would be nothing, but then he heard a sharp gasp from Lauren.

At this, he knew almost instantly that something was wrong. "Lauren?" he asked.

"Oh my God..." he heard her say. "Oh my God! There's glass all along here! It's all broken glass! And it goes down the length of the passageway! There's glass everywhere!"

Scott started violently at this. "What?" he asked.

"There's broken glass!" she shouted. "And there's blood on some of it!"

Scott jolted violently. _Shit... That means... that car..._

"Lauren, get some glass with blood on it and get out of there!" he commanded. "You can't go any further down there!"

He saw the light go out as some shifting of glass was heard in the passageway. Finally, he heard the sound of a piece of glass being picked up, and then he heard some more shuffling. Slowly, he heard someone approach, and then finally he saw Lauren approach the end of the passageway. Scott helped her out, grabbing her arm and helping to keep her body up as she climbed out of the vent. The woman gritted her teeth as Scott grabbed her arm, one leg coming out as Scott suddenly realized there was something warm spilling onto his hand. He looked to the hand and suddenly realized that Lauren was bleeding. He did a double take as he looked to the woman.

"Oh no..." he said, looking to the bloody hand. "Do you think...?"

The woman shook her head. "No," she said simply. "I don't think it's serious." She looked back to the passageway. "Think about it, Scott. There was an entire passageway of broken glass that the fathers have to go through..."

The investigator blinked at this realization. He jolted violently as he looked into the passageway. "You're right..." he said, looking in there... "They must have gotten cut up so badly... Or he..."

The man looked over to his partner as he gestured to the passageway. "I think that blood is fresh," he said. "When we pulled into the power plant, I saw a car driving away from the power plant..."

"One of the other fathers..." she realized. "Shit! We just missed him!"

Scott looked into the vent. "That's not all..." he said. "I've got a feeling that he had to go through more to get to that point... He must have left a trail of blood somewhere! Maye that blood can take us to where he had to go..."

The woman nodded. "Yes..." she said. "Let's see if we can find anything."

And the two of them left the room rather quickly, looking behind them in fright as they gave one last glance at the vent filled with glass. Lauren briefly felt for the piece of glass in the plastic bag she had before she left, feeling very, very afraid for the father that had just passed through as they both exited the room and began searching for a trail of blood that was likely fast disappearing in the heavy rainfall.

* * *

Scott and Lauren had both found a trail of blood that was rapidly disappearing in the rain. Without further thought, Lauren and Scott both followed the trail of blood as it disippated. The two of them ran as fast as their legs could carry them, and eventually, they managed to arrive at a door.

They both looked at it rather strangely, seeing a small speck of blood just underneath the doorway. They both looked at each other briefly as the rain came down on them before they nodded.

"This is it..." said Scott. "I hope there's nothing too serious..."

Lauren shook her head. "An entire passageway of glass..." she mused out loud. "What could have followed afterwards?"

Scott shook his head, cracking his knuckles as he approached the door. "Only one way to find that out."

And the investigator promptly opened the door, gesturing to Lauren. The mother stepped in first, holding her arm so that the bleeding would stop eventually. They both gave the environment around them some glances, the area damp thanks to the near-incessant rainfall. But above, they could make out the last rays of the sun spilling in. The sun illuminated a rather long trail of blood that Lauren found extremely unsettling as she and Scott went deeper into the place. The light was fading fast, however, and they knew they would have to leave soon.

They both began to notice something eerie, however; down the passageway, they saw that as the light disappeared, there was another, slightly more faint light coming from farther down. Neither of them liked what this meant as they followed the trail of blood.

And finally, the two of them came upon a whole series of condensers. The condensers crackled, and occasionally there was a loud spark heard as white light danced across wires for a split second. Reactions like this were going on all throughout the condenser series. It was upon closer inspection that they noticed that the condensers had a few severed cables between them, some hanging undoubtedly from the years of decay since the plant had been shut down.

It would have been an ordinary sequence, except for three things.

The first thing was that there was a table immediately in front of the condensers that stood there for no truly discernible reason.

The second thing was that there was a large butterfly model that was hung over said table, such that it could probably be seen across the maze.

The third thing was that the trail of blood led directly to some of the wires between two of the condensers. And in some of the dancing of the sparks, they suddenly noticed that the blood went deeper; between the wires of some of the condensers, thicker in some places than in others, but always present.

Lauren's heart rate increased significantly at this, Scott's hand diving to his inhaler. He began to breathe in and out a little faster as he looked around.

But what finally did it was seeing the sight of another burned body a short distance away from where the trail of blood led through the condensers. The body was burnt, but Scott had a feeling it didn't belong to the father that the trail of blood belonged to. It looked like it had been there for a few days, and the skin was blackened enough to show it. They both gasped in horror.

And then, Scott felt his lungs constrict.

_Shit! Another asthma attack!_

He suddenly felt himself stumble backwards, his hand coming onto the table with a loud bang as he sat against it. Scott struggled to breathe, his hand pulling the inhaler out of his pocket as he closed his eyes. Lauren turned to him in shock, and was instantly by the man's side.

But there was no need, for by then he had already gotten his inhaler to his mouth. Taking a few short breaths, he clicked on his inhaler. A few more instances of this, and he felt himself breathing a little easier. Still, he closed his eyes as he felt the air flow through his lungs, relief settling over as he recovered from the brief attack.

"Are you all right?" asked Lauren as soon as she saw that the investigator was breathing in and out.

Scott shook his head almost on instinct. "Asthma attack," he replied. "Shit..."

Lauren shook her head, looking back to the condensers. "The trail of blood leads right through there..." said Lauren, pointing at the condensers. "What does that mean?"

Scott looked up at the butterfly that hovered overhead before he pushed himself off the table.

"He probably forced the fathers to go through here after the tunnel of glass..." mused Scott as he looked up. "But how did they do that...?"

Lauren indicated the dead father. "One of them didn't..." she said, her voice trembling.

The investigator instantly picked up on the trepidation in her voice, and looked directly at the burnt body that lay entangled in the wires, obviously having slipped up. "Is that...?"

"It's not Peter, if you're wondering..." she mentioned. "He's too short. But..."

The prostitute gripped the sides of her head, and Scott noticed a wobbling in her feet. Almost as if by instinct, he brought a hand over to Lauren's arm, keeping her straight as she swivelled around. After a few seconds, she shook her head, Scott giving her a look of concern.

Almost instantly, though, he understood Lauren's sudden bout of dizziness. It was not every day you found out your husband had probably died trying to save your son, and Scott now had the very unpleasant feeling that Peter Winter's fate was not pleasant.

_The poor woman..._

He looked to the condenser maze before nodding to Lauren. By then, she had recovered from the shock of finding out what had happened, but her eyes still held some kind of hidden sadness within at finding out the possible fate of her husband.

But they both knew there was business to attend to, and Scott gave a brief glance to the maze as he turned to it rather slowly.

"Right..." he said. "I hope you have a camera with you."

Lauren rose her eyebrow before suddenly remembering something. She dove into her pant pocket just under her coat, and pulled out a small digital camera.

"I... I had gotten it as a gift for Johnny's birthday... before he disappeared..." said the prostitute. "I never figured it would be used for this."

She turned the camera on, looking at the condensers as they snapped and crackled away. She looked all around, thinking which places would be best to take pictures. She finally got as close to the condenser maze as she dared, looking all around. A snap was heard, not of the sparks, but of a camera as Lauren took pictures of first the man tangled up in the wires, then the condensers, then the trail of blood that was within and led out, and finally of the butterfly figure that loomed overhead. She checked each picture, and nodded to Scott when she was finished.

"Let's get out of here..." she said. "I don't want to stay here much longer..."

Scott shook his head, his glance fixing itself onto the condenser maze. "Neither do I," he agreed.

And with this, they both turned in the other direction, still quite shocked at the condenser maze as they walked away, the sun petering out as they moved.

* * *

By the time they returned to their car, the sun had set, and twilight had reign over the sky. Lauren moved along, still holding her arm where the cut was. They hadn't been able to bandage it with anything while they were at the plant, but Scott was sure he had something that the mother could use to patch up her wound.

For then, though, they had other things to worry about. They entered the vehicle, Lauren looking at Scott.

"So what now?" she asked. "We... We've seen one of the things the killer makes the fathers go through..."

Scott shook his head. "We could go to Carter about this..." he said. "But knowing my luck, he'll probably be somewhere else again... That, and I'm afraid it won't help his reaction to this whole case..."

"Maybe we should go see another trial," said Lauren. "Maybe compile more evidence before we go to Carter about this..."

The investigator nodded. "Yeah, that sounds good," he said. "We'll have to get some sleep first, though," he said. "It's getting late."

To this, Lauren could only nod in reply. They had gone through a lot that day, and Lauren needed to sleep it all away. Scott looked over to her, realizing that she was likely going to need someplace other than her apartment to stay for the duration of the case.

"You know..." he added. "If you want, you can stay at my apartment for this case. It'll make things easier for you, I imagine..."

Lauren looked over to Scott, blinking. "Are... are you sure?" she asked. "I didn't bring any spare clothes..."

The investigator smiled. "I don't mind," he said. "Besides, we've got a long couple of days ahead of us. Might as well stay in proximity of each other, right?"

His partner nodded, buckling her seat belt as he spoke. "Yes..." she replied. "Okay then. I hope you've got spare bedsheets..."

Scott nodded, a soft smile coming to his face as he started the car.

"Trust me, I've got plenty."

And with this, he drove away from the power plant, their minds having had enough of seeing what lay in there, the butterfly taking on a whole new image within their minds as Lauren spared it one last glance.


	8. Chapter 7

All right. Last time, we got a rude wake-up call, and this time we get an even ruder one set into motion by people.

So yeah, this time, we get more things to do with investigation, followed by other stuff.

So I'll get started and shut up now.

* * *

Chapter 7: The Lizard Part 2

Scott had woken up rather late the next morning after having taken a while to tend to Lauren's troublesome glass wound. It had gone in a little deeper than either of them had anticipated, and so they had to wrap it up very tightly in bandages and such. After that was the entirely different matter of getting Lauren situated in the small couch of Shelby's apartment. However, there Scott had managed to work quickly, with Lauren being a big help.

What kept Scott up the most the night before was not this, however. It was seeing the image of Shaun Mars in the ditch suffering. It was also the sight of a projection of Mr. Mars that haunted Scott, wondering what else he had gone through and what he would have to go through in the future. The fear that no one would be able to save Shaun kept him up the entire night, and as such he only managed to get a little sleep.

When he woke up, it was to the sound of the shower being run. He looked up from his bed, pulling at his undershirt as he heard this.

_Lauren..._ he thought. _Well, she's an early riser. That's good for us._

The investigator nodded and climbed out of bed, nearly doing a double take when he saw the time. After this, he very quickly jumped out of the bed, standing up. He moved into his living room and quickly went over to the closet by his desk. Opening it, he eyed the clothing in there, thinking about something strange. He remembered that there was an empty area behind the wall that the closet was in, and he wondered what the killer would have done if he had lived in his apartment.

He shook his head, realizing these thoughts were more troubling than he could have hoped. And so, he picked out an outfit and dressed for the day, going over to the shoebox where he left it on the coffee table the night before.

He looked down suddenly, seeing a pair of latex gloves and a note from Lauren beside one of the Origami figures. He looked down at the gloves and put them on before taking Lauren's note.

_I thought I'd choose the next destination. I left you some eggs and bacon in the kitchen. Eat up; I'm afraid we've got a long day ahead of us._

Scott nodded in gratitude at this, setting the note down. He looked to the kitchen briefly, and sure enough the bacon and eggs were sitting on the table on a small plate. The investigator smiled softly at this as he looked on. _Well, that was nice of her,_ he thought.

His attention was on the meal for a few seconds before he turned back to the origami figure. He picked it up and unfolded it gently, noting it was in the shape of a lizard. He then eyed the address warily, looking at it with a frown.

_Hm, I've never heard of this place_, he thought. _I guess we'll find out what it is sooner or later._

The investigator took the paper and stashed it in one of his pockets, looking over to the food. He walked over and sat at the table, noting the eggs and the bacon were both a little cold. He shrugged at this, knowing it probably could not be helped as he noted the utensils. He grabbed these, cut up a small section of the bacon, scooped up some of the eggs, and very delicately brought the fork to his mouth.

As he chewed on his mouthful of food, he made a mental note to let Lauren know how good a cook she was. He ate the rest of his breakfast in silence, contemplating on Lauren and the nature of the Origami Killer.

* * *

They had set out as soon as Scott had finished taking care of some final business within his small apartment. The rain pounded on the car as Scott drove on, feeling a nervous anticipation settle in his veins as he drove on. Lauren sat in the passenger seat, feeling the same sense of perturbance that Scott was feeling. They both knew something terrible lay in wait for them at the site of the Origami Killer's next trial, and they both had to breathe deeply to steady their breathing.

When they arrived at the address, however, Scott was quite surprised to see a bunch of police cars in the area. He stopped after parking behind a car, looking at the cars.

"What the hell is going on here?" asked Lauren.

The investigator's eyebrows rose as he saw a few policemen just standing there. "I don't know..." he said. "I get the feeling I won't like where this is going..."

Lauren nodded, perfectly understanding the investigator's trepidation. If Carter Blake was involved, there was no telling what would occur. And Lauren did not like the implication of what police officers being at the site of one of the trials would mean.

They sat in the car for a few minutes, waiting to see what would happen. There was a lot of trepidation there, and Scott shifted in his seat uncomfortably as he turned the car off.

Finally, the two of them saw several police officers round the corner, walking back to their police cars. And there, Scott saw the form of Lieutenant Carter Blake, his fists clenched and his face betraying a lot of anger as he stalked over there. There was a man with him that Scott did not recognize, but Lauren seemed to cringe upon seeing the Lieutenant for the first time. The investigator could not blame her; Carter hadn't been assigned to the case until recently, but already the air the man exuded scared him.

The investigator pulled the keys out of his car before stashing the Origami figure in his trenchcoat pocket. He nodded to Lauren tentatively.

"I don't think you'll like this..." he said. "But I think it's time we had a chat with Carter."

But the prostitute simply nodded her agreement. With this, they both stepped out of the car, moving in the direction of the lieutenant. Seeing this, he nodded to the man Scott didn't recognize. With a short nod, the stranger walked off to a police car, with the others going to their respective cars. Scott and Carter both paused in the middle of the street, Lauren looking at the two men as Scott placed his hands on his hips.

"Carter," began Scott, smiling a little. "I wasn't expecting to find you here."

"Yeah, neither did I," said the Lieutenant, his voice betraying a lot of bitterness. "We were chasing a suspect. He was in that apartment before he escaped. The fucker escaped!"

Scott rose his eyebrow at this, crossing his arms. The smile disappeared from his face as he looked at Carter. "The suspect?" he asked. "And you didn't tell me about this, why...?"

"Look, I've been meaning too, and you know how it fucking is, but the fucker just got away!" shouted Blake, pointing out to the apartment building. "He's in there, and next thing we know, he vanishes in the middle of a fucking subway!"

"Not what I meant," replied the investigator. "Who's your suspect?"

The Lieutenant blinked, frowning at him. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "The guy disappears after his son vanishes, he seems to be suffering from split personalities... Hell, he's a dead ringer!"

Scott's expression furrowed into a frown as Lauren jerked in place. "You mean...?" he asked. "You think the boy's father...?"

"Of course!" he shouted. "It's the only thing that makes sense! He disappears! God knows what he did to those children, Scott! The fucker needs to get arrested! And we just fucking missed him! What do you want me to do?"

The investigator's jaw worked, but by this time Lauren's rage was worked up. "Telling him when you have new information might be a good place to start!" she retorted.

This caught both men off guard, but Carter more so. The tone of Lauren's voice startled Scott at first, but then it frightened him. Lauren had not experienced Carter's rage first-hand, and Scott was afraid of how the confrontation would end.

And indeed, his fears were not unfounded, for then the woman saw Carter approach her, looking over the woman with anger in his eyes. He scratched his black goatee with a hesitant finger before crossing his arms and leaning to the side.

"So..." he said. "You enlist some woman to help, eh, Scott? I didn't think you to be the type."

Before the former cop could reply, Lauren's arms crossed, her glare intensifying. "I'll have you know that the Origami Killer killed my son," she said resolutely.

At this, Scott's eyebrows rose considerably, quite surprised at this development. "I'll also have you know that we have gotten plenty of leads on the Origami Killer," she continued without breaking her resolve. "And I can tell you that everything we have so far pegs Mr. Mars as the _last_ man who would be the Origami Killer."

"Lady, I don't need you getting in my face about evidence," replied Carter, his gaze fierce. "I have all the evidence I need."

"That doesn't explain every other father," she continued, her jaw set as she looked at the Lieutenant. "My husband disappeared too, and your police force never considered him a suspect. What makes this man different?"

"His wife said he wasn't behaving like himself, for fuck's sake!" he shouted. "How could you avoid that kind of evidence?"

Scott expected Lauren to stand down. But to his great shock, she did not, instead intensifying her glare and crossing her arms. "Maybe because you forgot to tell us about it in your big rush to catch _someone_," she said, the disdain dripping from her voice. "The least you could have done was to check with us to see what we had. But no. You had to go right ahead and chase someone that you only have one very shaky piece of evidence about."

"It is _not_ shaky," he replied, pointing a finger in Lauren's face. The woman reeled back slightly to keep the point of his finger from touching her, but she showed no signs of backing down. "His fucking _psychiatrist_ gave us a fucking origami figure that fell out of the man's pocket! That kind of evidence is irrefutable!"

Lauren simply crossed her arms. "You haven't seen what Scott and I have seen, Mr. Blake," she replied simply, her tone icy. "Maybe you should go in with a bigger picture. You ever wonder why only one father didn't go missing? You ever wonder why their faces are covered in mud? You ever wonder why they disappeared in the first place? Refused to see anyone? I don't think you have irrefutable evidence, Mr. Blake. And you won't catch him by chasing the father of Shaun Mars!"

Carter turned to Scott right away, a sneer coming onto his face as he gestured to Lauren. "Look at her," he said. "Talking to me like I'm some kind of kid! You can't be serious with having this woman help you!"

The investigator frowned, crossing his arms. "You're damn right I'm serious," he replied. "Lauren's been more helpful to me in this investigation than you probably ever will be. And she is right; we've seen more than you have."

"Oh, really?" asked Blake. "Like what?"

Both investigator and prostitute gave each other a knowing look. Uncrossing her arms, Lauren gave Blake the coldest glare she could manage. "We're not going to tell you," she stated simply.

Blake blinked, not sure what to make of the declaration. He turned to Scott, the disbelief on his face apparent. But the investigator simply replied with a more intense frown. He turned back to the woman, the fury in his eyes unabated.

"Are you fucking crazy?" he shouted, approaching the prostitute. "You're holding back evidence that could help us in this case! And you want to fucking hold on to it?" His finger jabbed itself in Lauren's face as he came really close to the woman. "You're crazy, bitch!"

Lauren did not budge from where she stood, eyeing down the police lieutenant with an equally angry look. "It's only fair," she pointed out. "You didn't tell us about Shaun Mars, or Mr. Mars becoming a suspect, or what you were doing here. So we're not going to tell you about one single piece of evidence that we find."

Blake shook his head, his fists clenching and unclenching as he turned to Scott. "There must be-"

"She's right, you know," pointed out the investigator. "I am looking into this case for you. But I'm expecting you to help me a little bit here. It's an investigation within an investigation, Carter. The least I could do is to get a status update every so often. Maybe I can check it with some evidence that I have? Or maybe it would have gotten us to work faster? Your lack of help isn't going to catch this guy. If you want me on the case, you're going to have to cooperate with me, and that's the end of it."

As soon as the investigator said this, he knew he had the cat in the bag. The lieutenant looked at both of them with rage in his eyes, his glance falling on Scott and then Lauren. His rage was quite obviously getting worse, but neither was willing to move. In fact, Scott could have sworn he saw Lauren give a smug smirk to the lieutenant out of the corner of his eye. His eye twitched. His jaw worked. All signs of frustration.

And then he turned straight to Lauren, her face right up to hers.

"Fine, then," he said. "You want to do that, then I'll tell you what: _you_ go and stop this murderer by yourself. I don't fucking need to deal with this. _You_ stop him! And if I stop him, I run you both in for obstruction of justice!"

If Lauren was intimidated, she did not immediately express it. If anything, the smug look on her face only got more intense, her arms crossing as she stared the Lieutenant down.

"Fine, then," she said, looking the lieutenant right in the eyes. "I'll find the Origami Killer. And if you run us in for obstruction of justice? We have evidence to prove that Mr. Mars is _not_ the Origami Killer. And God help you should we ever choose to present it."

Blake turned away at this, his gaze breaking from hers. Breathing in and out at this, Blake pointed an accusatory finger at Scott.

"This isn't the end of this, _Scotty_," he finished, the venom from his voice barely being enough to make him flinch.

The investigator looked at Carter Blake with an impassive look on his face as the police officer stared them both down. After a few tense seconds of this, he turned and crossed the street, where the stranger still sat in the car. The other policemen had long since left by the time Carter Blake had returned to his own car; now all that was left was Lauren and Scott, looking over at the man as he entered the car. The door slammed shut when he entered, and they could both feel Carter Blake bore holes into their skulls as he started the car. With a few menacing whirrs of his engine, he finally drove off, and the cop car disappeared into the distance behind a veil of rain.

At this, Scott let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. He looked straight to the prostitute, whose arms were still crossed.

"Wow..." he said simply. "Not many people are able to stand up to Carter like that without feeling the pressure."

"Oh, trust me, Scott, I felt the pressure," she replied, exhaling in relief herself as one of her hands brushed her hair from her forehead. "But women in my line of work tend to learn how to take charge of their own lives. That, and I know when a man is and isn't going to hit me. He wasn't going to hit me. Not with you here."

Scott looked in the direction Carter had driven off in. "But still, that's a hell of a feat you pulled there," said the investigator. "You deserve a medal for that."

He could have sworn he saw the lightest hint of a blush grace the woman's cheeks as he looked on. Upon seeing Lauren get slightly flustered, he offered her a kind smile. Something else occurred to him then, and then he shifted his stance where he stood.

"I noticed you started calling me 'Scott', too..." he said.

Lauren nodded. "It doesn't seem right calling you 'Mr. Shelby' anymore," she admitted. "We're going through a lot together... I might as well drop formalities if that's the case."

In reply, the investigator only nodded, looking at the apartment where they had been heading. "That's certainly welcome," he said. "And I like that quite a bit. All right... With that out of the way, I think it's time we checked what this trial is all about."

"Yes," said Lauren. "I think it's time too."

And with this, the two of them entered the building that the police cars had been gathered around when they arrived.

* * *

When they entered the small building, their fears were not unfounded. The place looked as if it had been abandoned. They saw a very small room with a box having been shoved up against a window when they entered, and the dust was seen hanging in the air.

"Oh, damn it..." said Scott. "Why did it have to be dust?"

He thumbed the second inhaler in his pocket he felt he would need to use. He took a deep breath in, shaking his head as he and Lauren both noticed a staircase in the small room. The woman approached the staircase with a certain trepidation in her step, looking up.

"Maybe this is where Mr. Mars went..." she said, indicating the staircase.

"I wouldn't put it past him to have gone here..." added Scott. "There's nowhere you can go from here other than outside. Up the stairs, then..."

The two of them ascended the stairs, noting how creepily they seemed to creak under their step. They slowly stepped up, noting that the hallway looked as if it had been burnt down by someone. Investigator and prostitute both paused as they reached a corner, looking down the decrepit building and seeing something strange.

When they rounded the corner, there were porcelain lizards left scattered around the floor. Some looked to have been imported, but most of them were intact. There was one left shattered on the floor, but otherwise the lizards' brightly colored bodies felt extremely out of place with the burnt wood of the floor. Scott looked to the prostitute briefly before bending down and looking at the lizard that was shattered.

He instantly noticed something about the lizard. "It's hollow..." he said. "Like it's holding something in there..."

It was then that Lauren noticed a door in the hallway. She walked up to it slowly, eyeing it with a good amount of justified trepidation. She gestured it to Scott, who took notice. The door was part of the way open, and it seemed to lead into a small apartment that also looked to be burned down from what little of it they could make out.

"Maybe he had to go in here..." said Lauren with a gesture of her hand.

The investigator looked up into the room, raising one of his eyebrows as he did. He stood up and walked over to the room slowly, the sense of dread beginning to boil in him again despite his earlier thoughts that he would not approach this with any great trepidation. He simply plodded along the burnt floor boards, Lauren following him rather closely as she looked over his shoulder.

The investigator lightly opened the door of the scene they were in, and as he and Lauren gazed in, they both reeled back in shock.

They walked into an old apartment that had long since been abandoned by anybody living in it. There were two doorways on either side of the small room they were in, and as the floorboards creaked under Scott's weight, they saw the room they had entered was barren, except for a small table. The other two doorways led to other things, but that was not what had their attention.

What had their attention was the table. There was some kind of screen-type apparatus on the table that looked extremely out of place in relation to the rest of the apartment. By its side, however, were objects that were even more out of place. The first was a wooden chip, a few teeth marks having embedded themselves into it somehow. The second, was an iron rod that looked as if it had just finished being heated.

The third and fourth objects were what really grabbed their attention, however. On the table lay what looked to be a human finger. It looked as if it had been freshly cut off, and the appendage simply sat there, a small pool of blood having formed around it. Lauren reeled back, the pale finger giving her quite a fright as she looked on. The fourth object was a short distance away; a small trail of blood that flowed from the finger led to a discarded hatchet that lay a foot or two away from where the table was. Scott's hair stood on end upon seeing this, and he then noticed that one of the floorboards directly underneath the table had been moved so that it uncovered a small hole.

As Lauren reeled back, Scott felt his throat constrict slightly. Fortunately, unlike the last time he saw a trial, he did not feel it was bad enough to be an attack. So he took a deep breath and walked forward.

"Okay..." he said, looking at the pieces laying before him and suddenly noticing an array of sharp objects that were lying around the apartment. "So... Mr. Mars shakes the lizards outside and gets a key to the apartment..."

He gestured to the screen on the table. "This thing here then somehow tells the man that he has to cut off one of his fingers. He probably has a time limit on it, I can't tell that from seeing any of this..."

Lauren nodded, looking over at the table as Scott looked there. "And then... Mr. Mars cut his finger off. And the thing told him where the clue was... He cauterized his wound, took the clue, and ended up getting chased by the police when he tried to leave..."

"My God..." said the prostitute, looking at the scene. "And he actually did it..."

Scott shook his head. "Well, Carter was right about one thing," he commented. "This guy really is a sick fuck. I don't think he realizes how bad it really is, though..."

Lauren looked around, crossing her arms as the shock at seeing Mr. Mars' pale finger seemingly looking at her from the table as she looked around the apartment. An idea came to her then, and she glanced back at Scott as she entered the area to the left of the doorway. She saw a kitchen, with a stove that was still burning. Approaching it slowly, she turned off the gas, the blueish flame dying as she turned it off. She let out a soft exhale, looking back to the main room of the apartment.

"You know..." she said. "Some women in my line of work tend to keep their accounts in places like this..."

This sentence caught Scott the slightest bit off guard as he looked around, eyeing a saw that was in the corner. "Why mention this now?" he asked.

"Maybe the Origami Killer leaves something here..." she said. "It looks like the perfect place to leave some kind of documents... People to pay off, locations... that kind of thing..."

The investigator immediately understood what Lauren was trying to say. "I see..." he said. "Well... It might not hurt also to go through the apartment and see what we can do about evidence. Let's check this place out."

Lauren nodded from within the kitchen. She peered back out to the table, taking out her camera and returning to the main room as Scott began searching the apartment thoroughly. As he knelt onto the ground and knocked on the wooden floorboards, Lauren took a few pictures of the scene of Ethan's third trial. There was one of the general set-up, another of Mr. Mars' finger, another of the screen, another of the bloody hatchet...

As soon as she had taken the pictures, Lauren shuddered as she stowed the camera away. Scott continued knocking on the wooden floorboards, and Lauren decided she would go check other places in the apartment.

She had just stepped back into the kitchen to check that area when Scott paused briefly, knocking on a section of floorboard faster and a little louder than what she had heard. Pausing, she stepped backwards and back into the common area of the apartment.

"Scott?" she asked.

The investigator was still on his knees, but by this point he had progressed through much of the apartment, and his hand rested solidly over a small section of the floor. He raised it, his eyes seemingly tracing something that Lauren could not quite make out from where she stood. Whatever it was, however, she postulated that it meant he had found something.

Without any form of warning, Scott's hand came down on a corner of a floorboard loudly. A piece of the floor seemed to jump up a little at this, such that it flipped up and behind the investigator's hand. It revealed a rather small hole not unlike the one that was underneath the table where the trial had taken place. Scott stared the hole down, Lauren looking on as he grabbed a pair of latex gloves from within. When he had brought the latex gloves out, he gingerly reached into the hole, and rummaged through it.

When his hand returned, he pulled out a small book, its cover made of brown leather as Scott sat upright in the apartment. Lauren came closer, looking around the investigator as he eyed the book.

"This could be useful," he said.

"What's inside?" she asked.

Scott was all too keen to find out. With certain fingers, he opened the book, and thumbed through the pages. He looked intently at it, Lauren kneeling down beside him to get a better view of this. He saw dollar amounts. He saw names. And he saw some strangely neat handwriting.

"This looks like some kind of thing to keep track of expenses..." said the investigator. "Maybe it could lead to someone who knows who the killer is..."

Lauren blinked at this as the investigator stood up. "It's a really good lead," he said.

"It sure sounds like one..." agreed the prostitute as she stood up. "Should we get out of here?"

"Yeah, I think we've got enough evidence from this place," said the investigator. "It's a treasure trove of it, though... Let's return to the apartment. We can decide where to go next from there..."

And with this, the two of them exited the apartment. They dared not go back and rearrange the scene, however, feeling it was too sacred.

The thought that it might clue the killer in that he was being followed was something that didn't cross either of their minds as they walked down the hallway, giving a final glance at the numerous porcelain lizards that were lying around before finally going down the stairs and exiting the building.

* * *

When Scott and Lauren returned to Scott's apartment, they both set immediately to work on the couch. The desk was too far away for both of them, but personally Lauren did not mind this arrangement. They sat side by side on the couch thumbing through the book and writing down a list of names.

They had gone through the book for about an hour doing this before finally settling it down. there was a list of at least ten names. All of them had been arranged in various order, and Lauren and Scott both looked at the list.

"That's quite a lot of people," said the prostitute. "Whoever can pay off this many people is probably incredibly rich."

"But the crazy thing is, there are no policemen..." added Scott, looking at the names. "In a case like this, you'd expect someone in the police force to be payed off as well. But there are no policemen, even amongst those that joined the force after I left. This is really strange..."

Lauren looked down at the paper that Scott had written the names on. "Then again, so is a lot this case..." replied the prostitute. "Where do we start with these names?"

"Well..." he said. "We can probably start with this man over here..."

With this, Scott's finger hovered over the paper, coming to rest under the name of someone. Lauren followed the finger tentatively, blinking as she looked on.

"Him?" she asked. "Why do you want to start with him?"

Scott looked down at the man's name. "He was a criminal that used to steal a ton of cars," he said, looking to Lauren. "He's still considered incredibly dangerous, actually. So why the hell would the Origami Killer pay him off of all people?"

The prostitute saw Scott's point as he mused about this. "But if he's dangerous..." she postulated. "Then what happens if things go wrong?"

"They won't go wrong," he said. "I'll make sure of it."

Lauren looked to Scott with concern visible in her eyes. She nodded slowly, looking at the investigator as he stood up.

"Well, we best get going," he said.

"We've got an appointment with one Jackson Neville."


	9. Chapter 8

Okay, welcome back.

Last time, Carter got shouted down by Lauren. This will certainly not be the last time it happens, though. So fun times abound.

Anyhow... Let's see here... Oh, yes, this chapter. This chapter is going to cause a lot of developments to occur, and it'll likely be the longest chapter thus far. So...

Without further ado, here we go!

* * *

Chapter 8: Mad Jack

Scott drove on in the rain. _I swear, this rain is going to be the end of us and the end of Shaun Mars..._ The investigator made no comment as he drove to a small area outside of town. Lauren sat in the passenger seat, holding on to their information as they moved along in the rain. The air felt a little more at ease now that they were not heading over to the trial. However, Scott also felt that it was because he and Lauren had each other's backs. If one of them fell, he felt confident the other would step in. Their conversation with Blake had certainly given him the feeling, and so he felt a little more at ease.

The wall that seemed to be between them also seemed to break down a little bit, and so as he drove Scott decided to broach a subject he hadn't mentioned but that had always been a peeve of his since he had first met Lauren.

"Hey, Lauren, can I ask you something?" he asked as he turned on a corner.

"Sure," said the prostitute. "What is it?"

Scott gave her a glance as he drove on in the rain. "What's with the accent?" he asked. "It's a little... strange..."

Much to the investigator's surprise, Lauren let out the first genuine chuckle he had heard from his partner basically since he had met her. He glanced briefly as he saw a genuine smile come to Lauren's face, but he continued driving nevertheless. Her chuckling paused, and when she spoke her voice was considerably lighter than it had been throughout the entire case.

"I grew up in France," she replied.

Scott's eyes bulged at this. "Really?" he asked, the surprise evident in his voice.

"Yes," she said. "My father was an American ex-patriate, and he and my mother met in Paris. I was born, we lived there, and then we moved to America when I was eleven. You're the first person I've met in a long time that's asked. People really don't seem to notice the accent, for some reason..."

Scott shrugged. "I bet they do," he replied. "They just try not to think about it. How did you like America when you first came?"

The prostitute looked outside of the window. "It was kinder to me when I was a child," she replied. "But now... not so much. But when I first came... I couldn't help but be awed by everything around me... It was so new... and so interesting..."

"And now, here we are, hunting down a serial killer..." commented the investigator dryly.

"Yeah, I know," replied the mother. "But still... I'm doing something better with my life than whoring myself to other men."

With this, the investigator could not disagree. "That is true," he replied. "Have you ever visited your home?"

"I visited France a few times when I was a child..." Her voice was almost wistful as she thought of her home. "They stopped when we hit financial times, and with Peter drinking all my money away, I never got to again, though..." She paused, looking up in front of her as she held one hand up to her breast. "I'd definitely like to see it again sometime before I die. It was a lovely place, and I'd like to see my old childhood haunts again if only to see how much things have changed..."

Scott briefly glanced over to Lauren as he drove in the rain. "You know, I've always wanted to go to Paris," he said. "Maybe... when this thing blows over, we could find some time to head on over there, you know?"

"You too?" asked Lauren. "And you would go... with me?"

"Of course," replied the investigator, giving her a soft smile. "I'd be delighted to go with you, Lauren. I hope that's not too much to ask..."

"Of course not..." said Lauren.

"All right then," he said. "When we have time and money, to Paris we go!"

The prostitute smiled warmly at Scott as he drove on, and when the investigator cast a glance over to Lauren he couldn't help but do the same thing himself. The mood in the car was much happier after this, and neither Lauren nor Scott dared break the silence after this. It was a rare respite of happiness in the gloomy muck that the Origami Killer case represented, and they intended to exprience it for all it was worth.

As they reached a junkyard, the mood began to go down again, back to what it was before. And so, Scott pulled into the junkyard, his face serious as he looked at all of the trashed cars around the area. He parked the car, and pulled out a gun from his trenchcoat. He glanced to Lauren briefly before holding the gun to her.

"You ever handled one of these things before?" he asked.

The prostitute shook her head.

"Right," said Scott. "Now, Jackson Neville is considered to be an incredibly dangerous man. I want you to stay here for now."

"We're in this together, remember?" she asked, looking at Scott with a slight frown on her face.

"We are," he said. "But... I think Jackson Neville might try something. I want you to stay here in the event that he does. He'll know I'm here, but he won't know you're here. And if something really bad goes down, I want you to surprise him. You'll have the gun and the keys to the car. If he does something, it'll be up to you to do something. All right, Lauren?"

The prostitute was clearly not happy with being left behind, but Scott felt he had no choice. Approaching a criminal like Jackson required thinking away from conventional interrogation, and he felt that it was important that Lauren stay behind in the event that he would need backup. If he did need backup, Lauren had a visual of the entire junkyard from the driver's seat, and she would be able to help Scott from there.

Fortunately, Lauren's expression lightened a little after hearing the investigator's explanation, and so she took the gun from Scott and nodded.

"I hope I won't have to use this," she said. "I've never fired one in my life."

Scott nodded, turning the car off. "All right," he said. "I'll want you to keep an eye out. If you see anything rough happen, assume things have gone to hell and do whatever."

"Do whatever?" asked Lauren, confused.

The investigator's hand rested on the door knob, and he looked to Lauren. "Improvise."

With this, he opened the door. Lauren dared not ask him to elaborate, as she knew this would likely get Jackson's attention in a way that would ruin the investigation into him before it even began. Lauren scooted to the driver's seat tentatively as Scott closed the door, looking out to the junkyard around him. He looked for a sign of Jackson Neville, wondering where he could be.

He finally saw a rather large black man out somewhere in the junk yard. He noticed the man was pushing a car over to some kind of impactor. It was a black car that he was pushing along, a car that looked to be in perfectly good condition. The tires were new, the paint wasn't rusting... the only thing that seemed off about it was that one of the wheels had been flattened. He squinted at this as he saw the man at work.

_Now why would he impound a car that looks like it's in perfect working condition? _he asked himself.

After thinking about it a little more, however, Scott knew there were more pressing matters at hand. He clenched and unclenched his fists as he looked at the man known as Jackson Neville.

Finally, he took a breath and walked over to the junk yard worker with a strange determination in his step. He had a case to solve, and as such he walked over to Jackson, feeling the weight of the leather book in his breast pocket as it seemed to jump in there with each step he took.

It took about a minute for Scott to approach Jackson. By this time, the man had pushed the car and was just walking over to a nearby crane. Scott knew he was intending to impound the car, but he could not help but notice something hurried about his footsteps to the crane. Scott was able to get into his view, however, and the man turned to him, his face looking a little annoyed as his eyes settled on the investigator.

Seeing that he had his attention, Scott decided not to waste another second. "Jackson Neville?" he asked.

"Yeah, that's me," he said. "I gotta impound this car. What the fuck do you want?"

_Nice to meet you too..._ "My name is Scott Shelby," said the investigator. "I'm looking on a lead for the Origami Killer case."

The black man blinked as he and Scott stood in the rain. He shook his head, exhaling. "I don't know nothin' about the Origami Killer," he said. "So what the fuck are you comin' here for, Mr. Shelby?"

Scott shook his head. "I'm just asking if you know anything about some mysterious man that came over to you," he said. "Do you remember anything at all about strange people with strange requests?"

"You, sir," stated Jackson without missing a beat.

_Oh. Very funny._ "Apart from me," replied the investigator as he crossed his arms.

"I don't know nothin' about that, honest," replied Jackson as he crossed his arms. "What are you comin' here for? What the fuck do you want?"

Scott shook his head. _This is getting frustrating very quickly..._ "Look, do you, or do you not, remember anybody asking you for something?" he persisted. "Like a car or something?"

"I don't know nothin'," reiterated the junk yard worker as he edged closer to Scott. "Look, Mr. Shelby, I'm a busy man. And I need to be left alone. So go back to your little house in your fucking suburbia and leave me in peace."

The reply that Jackson gave infuriated the investigator to no end. Something about the reply irked Scott needlessly, but he could not quite place his finger on what, exactly that was. He could not decide if it was the rushed tone Jackson gave, or the incredible disrespect he had for the investigator, or the lack of being willing to answer the questions that set him off. He was just glad Lauren wasn't with him, or else something else would have occurred.

With this, the frown on his face was tangible as he pulled the book out. Shielding the pages with his hand, he opened it to the appropriate page and turned it to Jackson.

"Then explain this," replied the investigator as he held the page up. "That's your name there, right?"

The junk yard worker was silent as he regarded the pages that Scott held up to him. "I found this in some abandoned apartment," said Scott. "I think it was owned by the Origami Killer. So who's paying you, and what do you-?"

Scott never got to finish his sentence, for then he felt something strike him with extreme force in the temple. The book was flung into the softening mud around him, and Scott found himself face-first in the dirt. His vision swam briefly as his hands came to his side, and he looked up to see that Jackson had a gun in his hand.

"With all due respect, Mr. Shelby, I don't wanna go back to no jailhouses," Scott could barely make out Jackson saying this. "So... Who the hell are you... die here... soon..."

Scott's consciousness wavered ever so quickly. The last thing he remembered feeling was the feeling of someone lifting him up and dragging him somewhere.

And then, he promptly blacked out, hoping that Lauren would pick up that something was terribly wrong with the picture.

* * *

Lauren was sitting in the driver's seat, indeed taking notice of Scott's conversation with Jackson. From the distance she was at, she was not sure how the conversation was going as she gripped the steering wheel. She watched the two men converse, and had a terrible feeling that the conversation was not going well.

It still surprised her when Jack had grabbed a gun and whacked Scott in the head with it with enough force to knock down an armoire. She could not help the shocked jump that accompanied this as he began to drag Scott over to the black car. Jackson opened the car on the passenger's side, and with a hefty heave Scott was placed into the car.

Lauren instantly realized what Jack was doing- and likely had been trying to do when he got there.

_Shit..._ she thought. _He's hiding something! I have to stop him before he kills Scott!_

Quickly, her line of sight came over to the crane as Lauren noticed that the black man was still trying to stuff Scott in there. The first thing she did was to look at it, thinking about it. Crash into the crane... Of course. She could not risk killing Jackson because he still had questions that he needed to answer. And since she would be the one calling the questions out to the man, she could not risk accidentally killing him by hitting him with her vehicle.

Which left blocking his way and fighting him briefly. This prospect had its drawbacks for Lauren, but she would not let it deter her at all. Besides, she had a gun nestled in her coat. If worst came to worst, she would rely on that.

The prostitute came to a decision almost as quickly as Scott had been knocked out.

Without so much as another thought, she quickly fastened her seatbelt, turning the steering wheel so that the car would turn straight to the crane as she placed her foot on the brake. As Jackson finished stuffing Scott into the car and closed the door behind the investigator, Lauren changed gears.

_Right, I've got one shot. I won't mess this up!_

Lauren gritted her teeth, the frown on her face absolute as she saw Jackson walk over to the crane.

Without so much as a second thought, her foot slammed on the accelerator, and the car rocketed forward. The speed of it surprised her a little bit, and she was thankful she would have the seatbelt on when she crashed Scott's car into the crane. The crane came ever closer, with Jackson walking towards it.

And just when Jackson was about to step close to the ladder, he suddenly seemed to notice the car driving up to him. How he had not seen it before evaded Lauren, but in his shock he leapt off the ladder and away from the crane. The woman smirked as she rushed right up to the crane, the car coming ever closer.

_Exactly where I want him..._

Lauren then felt the front of the car impact against the crane, and the jolt disoriented her as she gripped the steering wheel with an iron grip to keep herself from flying too far forward. The back of the car seemed to fly from the ground for a split second, the vehicle coming to a spin. She thought she noticed something as Jackson yelled. The car turned slightly, coming to stop as Lauren took a breath to calm herself.

After taking a breath, she decided not to let the accident to get to her. Jackson was thankfully still dazed by what he had just witnessed, and so Lauren took this time to literally leap out of the car, briefly disengaging the seatbelt and jumping out as she pulled the gun out of her coat. She came around the car, keeping it trained on Jackson. _Just think of it like a cop movie..._ she told herself, her gaze steeley as she looked on Jackson as he lay sprawled on the floor.

"Whoah, bitch!" he shouted, holding his hands up. Lauren glanced up briefly to see that Jackson had been separated from his gun. "Are you crazy? You're not really gonna shoot that thing, are you?"

In response, Lauren simply scowled, pointing the gun a little to Jack's side. She pulled the trigger with a great amount of anger in the gesture. She was not prepared for the recoil, but she stood her ground as best she could as the bullet buried into the ground beside the junk yard worker. She turned the gun back on Jackson with a great amount of anger in her eyes.

"For your information, _nobody_ calls me bitch," she replied, keeping the gun levelled at Jack. "And you will start talking!"

Without wasting any time or waiting for a reply, Lauren launched straight into the questions, fear getting the best of her. "Who paid you off?" she barked. "Who?"

Jack was obviously still shocked that a _woman_ of all things was taking charge, but he still kept his composure together. "I don't know, ma'am!" he replied. "He introduced himself as James Sheppard!"

"Why did he pay you off?" asked Lauren, keeping the gun at Jackson.

The man began to scoot over, and instantly the woman knew that she had to be extremely careful in the next few minutes. "He knew about what I did!" he shouted. "He told me he wouldn't go to no policeman if I gave him one of my cars! Honest, ma'am!"

_Well, there's something new..._ "What would he need a car for?"

"I don't know!" shouted Jackson as he scooted away. Lauren slowly edged away from him, holding the gun up to him without faltering as she slowly walked. "I don't know! He just told me I wouldn't go to jail! That's all I know, ma'am! Really!"

_He must be rich indeed..._ thought the prostitute._ But if he was paying them off so that they wouldn't go to jail... Does that mean every other person on the list is a criminal too...? __Oh, well. That's all I'll get out of him..._

Lauren held the gun up, but suddenly noticed a small object in the mud. It wasn't until Jackson took a hold of it that she realized what he intended to do.

Thinking quickly, Lauren ducked down, and seconds later the leather book flew past the place where her head had been only seconds before. The woman lifted her gun at the same time, but she didn't think to do much else as she saw Jack stand up and rush at her.

She panicked, any thoughts of the gun leaving her mind as she turned and ran. Jackson, being the more athletic of the two, was quick to shove her down on the ground, however. With this shove, Lauren's gun suddenly flew a few feet away. Lauren looked back to Jack suddenly, seeing him raise a foot in the air. With a stunned yell, Lauren quickly rolled out of the way, the foot stamping into the mud below them as she rolled away. As she rolled away, she suddenly noticed a discarded headlight, probably from another car that had been put through the compactor.

Grabbing this, she quickly swiped it at Jack just as his foot was coming in to kick her in the gut. She was able to deflect it mostly, but she still felt the soles of his shoe grace over her leg. Not wasting another second, Lauren swiped the headlight again, catching Jack in the leg and causing him to stumble back slightly. She whacked the leg again for good measure, and this time the blow was hard enough that Jack let out a groan of pain as he stumbled back.

This gave Lauren enough time to get back on her feet. As she did, she swiped at the man's head with the headlight, catching him just as he looked up. His head seemed to rock to the side, but it did not do too much damage to the madman who worked in the junkyard. Lauren went in for another swipe when she felt the searchlight get whacked straight out of her hand. She briefly considered the sting that had graced her hand before looking at Jack, the man having a delirious burn in his eyes as Lauren stood there.

_Oh, Jesus, it's Troy all over again!_

Determined not to be helpless, however, Lauren watched him for any movements as she seemed to prance back a bit. Promtply, she saw his hand form a slap, and then she ducked down, her face narrowly dodging his hand as the harsh sound of his arm whipped the air. Lauren looked up, seeing Jack prepare a kick. She jumped back, his foot hovering mere inches away from her face as she jumped back, landing on her hands as she beheld the sight of the large man in front of her. He stomped the ground again, Lauren quickly jumping to the side as he did.

_Shit... this isn't working_...

"You crazy bitch, you think you're such hot shit, don't you?" Jackson taunted as suddenly she felt him lift her up by the collar of her shirt. Her legs dangled in the air beneath her as he picked her up. Lauren briefly struggled against him, feeling the futility as suddenly, the air seemed to journey roughly past her. "I'll make you pay for this!"

As Jack rushed forward to abuse her body even more, Lauren suddenly seemed to see something buried in the mud. Probably an exhaust port for one of the cars, but it was thin and it had a point. At this moment Lauren had no time to think. As Jack came closer, she saw his foot come up in a kick.

Acting on an impulse, Lauren grabbed the exhaust pipe, and without wasting a second stabbed it straight through the foot of Mad Jack with all the force she could muster. She heard Jack scream out in pain, and when she opened her eyes that she did not know she had closed, she saw that she had stabbed the pipe into Jack's foot. Lauren quickly rolled away as Jack howled in pain at this. She quickly got to her feet as Jack beheld the wound.

The prostitute wasted no time. She looked around for the gun, finally seeing it a foot away from one of the tires of the car that Scott had been stuffed in. She dashed right towards it, not caring to glance back as she grabbed the gun again.

But then, just as her hand circled around the gun Lauren felt a hand roughly grab her face and throw her against the black car. A pain shot up in her face as she suddenly got pulled away so that Lauren was looking up at Jack.

"You're going to pay for that, bitch!"

He brought his foot up yet again, and Lauren barely had enough time to dodge it. However, as she attempted to get up, she found that Jack had stepped on her hair, preventing her from standing up. It was also then that she noticed the other foot still had the exhaust pipe in it, and Jack was raising it.

Going against her better judgement, Lauren pulled back, gritting her teeth in pain as her hair got pulled on. It was only enough for the foot to stamp over her hair, and even then Lauren still felt something graze against her scalp. She cried out in pain, the weight of Jack's entire body on her hair becoming unbearable as suddenly the foot with the pipe kicked her in the gut.

Lauren was disoriented as she felt the pressure on her hair get released, but she had no time to dwell on this before she felt herself get hoisted up. She felt herself get thrown away as Jack looked at her with a leery look in his eyes. Having had the breath knocked out of her, Lauren could only look up as she saw Jack prepare another kick.

The second kick never came. Neither Lauren nor Jack had noticed that there was sound coming from within the car. And so, the door on the driver's side opened, sending Jack sprawling back as Lauren looked up, her vision coming out of focus as she regained her breath. Out stepped a rather thin man, his movements frantic as Jack stumbled back from the force of being hit with the car door.

As Lauren's vision slowly came back into focus, she saw Jack throw a punch at the newcomer, who blocked it as best he could while stumbling back. He saw Jack throw another punch that the stranger also blocked with some kind of expertise, with a headbutt coming quickly. The stranger's hand quickly shot up, blocking the headbutt, and as Lauren looked at the fight, she saw that he was really struggling against the larger man.

The prostitute took a breath of air, feeling a little better. Slowly, she began to crawl towards the fight as the thin man retaliated with a punch that did not seem to do anything. As Lauren approached, he saw the stranger who had saved her take another punch that did not do anything at all to the larger man. But this would soon be a mistake.

Lauren had recovered quickly, and so she grabbed at the pipe embedded in Jack's foot. Quickly, her feet came under her and yanked it out. In reply, the black man could only cry out in pain as the prostitute stumbled away from the force of the pull. Seeing an opportunity, the stranger kicked Jackson away, the man stumbling back as the pain surprised him.

Seeing him down on the ground, Lauren decided not to waste any time. Without any further ado, she rushed forward with the exhaust pipe held like a dagger. Her hand came down attempting to stab him, but Jackson was quick to attempt to block this. He could not get up, though, because then the prostitute attempted it again. This was blocked also, and Jackson snarled at her.

However, he had no time to get up, for then the stranger stamped his feet on the black man's crotch. The junk yard worker yelled out in pain as he suddenly stopped concentrating on blocking the blows, the groin attack leaving him open.

With a frown, Lauren looked down at Jackson's pitiful form. Not sparing any pity, she dove again, letting out a yell as she did.

This time, the exhaust pipe burrowed its way into Jackson Neville's heart, the man screaming out in pain as Lauren instantly let go of the improvised dagger and crab walked back a couple of paces. He convulsed violently for a brief period of time, the two onlookers watching as slowly he stilled. Blood pooled underneath the fallen man, and Lauren found herself breathing in and out very heavily, watching as the man twitched to a complete stop.

Her breaths did not stop, however; the fight had taken a lot out of her. She had been kicked and thrown about, but somehow she was still in one piece. After a while, her breathing became more of a sign of relief than it ever had before, and it slowed to a stop as she sat. She suddenly found her back was against Scott's wrecked car, and so she leaned back, closing her eyes and sighing in relief as the rain fell down on her harder than it ever had before.

She felt a hand on her shoulder then. _Oh, yes, there was someone else here..._ She opened her eyes and looked over to the stranger that had come out of the black car. He was rather light-haired, with a kind enough face. He looked... more formal dressed than someone should be, but Lauren was only relieved that the two of them and Scott were all still alive. His complexion was rather pale, though, but color was returning to his face ever so slowly. Upon taking a few breaths, though, Lauren had the strangest sense that she had seen the stranger somewhere before...

"Hey, you all right?" he asked, a fairly heavy New England accent lacing his words.

The prostitute breathed in and out before answering. "I'm fine." Her reply was exasperated. "Is Scott okay?"

"Oh, the man in the car?" asked the suited man. "He'll live. He might take a bit to wake up, though."

"Good." Relief flooded through the woman, looking over to the dead man laying on the ground as a question suddenly occurred to her. "What was he trying to kill you two for?"

The man simply spared a glance behind him. "I'm looking up something on a serial killer I'm tracking down," he said. "I snooped around a bit much, and before long I found a body in an acid bath."

_Oh dear... Looks like Scott was right on this one..._ "So he tried to get rid of the only witness..." she said.

He chuckled dryly as he himself sat on the muddying ground. "And the car," he added. "What're you doing here?"

"Scott and I were looking into a serial killer too..." said Lauren, looking over to the black car where Scott was still unconscious, as was visible in the door. "We found a list of people being payed off. This man was on that list..."

The stranger blinked, looking down to the woman. "Really?" he asked. "You're looking for a serial killer, and I'm looking for a serial killer. Isn't it strange how we both wind up at the same place?"

"And just in the nick of time, too..." added Lauren. "Man... If we're looking for the same serial killer... That would be even crazier..."

"Yeah, it would be," agreed the man sitting next to Lauren. "Who, exactly are you looking for?"

Lauren hugged her knees closer to herself before replying. "The Origami Killer..." she said, her conviction strong. "He killed my son. And now... I'm looking for revenge. With Scott, who's under Lieutenant Carter Blake's paycheck..." She spat out the lieutenant's name with a great amount of malice, spitting at the ground in front of her for emphasis.

But this seemed to sidetrack the man sitting beside her. He looked to her, and it wasn't until Lauren noticed the silence that she realized that he had not spoken. Turning to him, she saw that the man's eyes had widened a little bit in shock.

And then the realization hit her. She recognized the man from the apartment.

It was the man who had been waiting in Carter's police car after she had shouted him down in front of the place where the finger-cutting trial took place.

"Carter Blake is your partner, isn't he?" she asked.

The now quite familiar stranger let out a groan. "As much as I hate to admit it, he is," he replied. "Man, I really wish I could kick his ass..."

The mother chuckled dryly. "Welcome to the club," she said. "I thought you looked a little familiar."

"So did I," replied the stranger. "Now that I remember... I've gotta give you credit. You're the only person I've seen stand up to him in this entire city. And that was pretty awesome."

Lauren felt the slightest hint of a blush crawl up her cheeks, but she shooed it away. "Thanks," she said. "So... Since you're working on the Origami killer... What have you found?"

The policeman shook his head. "Apart from car tires that point to a specific model of a stolen car... nothing," he replied. "You?"

The woman sighed. "More than I really think I wanted to know, now that I think about it," she said. "I think we should wait for Scott to wake up. In the mean time..."

Lauren turned offering a hand to the stranger to shake. "Lauren Winter," she said. "As I said earlier, the Origami Killer killed my son."

"A pleasure," said the man, taking her hand and shaking it. "Norman Jayden. FBI."

The greeting was cordial enough. But then, upon hearing the man say the acronym, she tensed, her hair standing on end as her eyes widened involuntarily. Norman had moved to ask what the matter was, but thankfully Lauren was one step ahead of him.

"FBI?" she asked, her voice shrill. "You mean Carter was working with an FBI agent?"

Glancing to the side, Norman nodded hesitantly. There was a brief silence, where he seemed to be looking a little unprepared for what would come next.

This did nothing for Lauren, whose temper suddenly began to build greatly for the first time since she had met Blake face to face that morning. Her frown intensified, and the hand that was still on the ground clenched into a fist. A low growl began in Lauren's throat as her worst suspicions were confirmed.

_Carter Blake has a _lot _to answer for when I see him next!_

* * *

Scott came to in a haze, looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. He remembered blinking rapidly as he brought a hand up to his head, groaning. As his vision swam into focus, he noticed that he was in a warehouse, still in the junkyard apparently. The area was strangely wet, and his lungs were feeling a little uncomfortable at the damp atmosphere, and he could hear the sound of rainfall from a distance away.

_God damn it, it's still raining... Shaun Mars is going to die at this rate..._

"He's up."

The investigator did not recognize the voice, but he knew that it definitely did not belong to Mad Jack. He heard scuffling, and then he saw Lauren's face looking down at him. Relief flooded her features as he looked up, and he took in a breath.

"Lauren?" he asked. "Where's... Where's Jackson...?"

"We've taken care of him, don't worry..." reassured the mother as Scott slowly came up on his elbows. "He can't hurt anybody..."

"We?" asked Scott, utterly confused by the sentence.

At this, he saw a different man wander into view. And Scott realized he looked extremely familiar. "I was in the black car that you were thrown in," said the stranger. "If it hadn't been for Lauren here, I imagine we'd both be dead."

Scott recollected his memory of the last few seconds before he had lost consciousness, nodding it off as he stayed as still as he could to ward off the dizzyness. "Yeah, I guess..." he said. "You didn't happen to be with Carter Blake earlier today, did you?"

The man blinked, kneeling down by Scott. "Uh... yes..." he said. "He's my partner right now, though I really, really wish I could kick his ass sometimes."

The investigator chuckled dryly as he nodded. "I can't agree with you more," he said. "So... you don't look like your average cop. What are you?"

"FBI," replied the man. "My name's Norman Jayden."

The former policeman's eyes widened considerably at this, looking over to the agent. "FBI?" he asked.

"I know," added Norman as he shook his head. "Lauren told me about your investigation into the Origami Killer. Trust me, I think Carter's a bit of an asshole not to tell you that the police department requested help from the FBI."

"It would've been nice to know," replied the investigator, shaking his head. "I'll bet he treats you better than he does me."

Norman let out a mirthless chuckle. "You'd think," he said. "But he's really getting out of hand with thinking Ethan Mars is the killer. He's just getting consumed by that notion..."

Lauren looked between the two men as Scott found he was able to shift his weight entirely so that he was sitting, his legs out and his arms resting on his bent knees. "Blake was always a stubborn one," said Scott, shaking his head bitterly. "He was exactly the same way when I was still on the force. I see that hasn't changed at all since I left..."

The mother looked over to Norman, and Scott thought he saw something flash in her eyes for a second. "What were you looking for here?"

The agent blinked. "I was tracking a car..." he said. "There were tire tracks by the road where the last victim was found. It's a bit complicated but... I traced the car to here. I came here trying to look for some kind of lead, and... well, you know the rest. You?"

Scott nodded, looking over to Lauren and nodding. "Well..." he said. "We were following a list we found somewhere. That's also a long story, but we wound up coming here just after you did. We've got... a lot of leads on the Origami Killer."

"It seems you have a lot and I have nothing then..." said Norman. He glanced outside briefly, checking that his car was still there. He nodded upon seeing that yes, it was still there.

"Hm..." An idea occurred to Scott then. At first, he greatly disliked the idea, as it would mean that it could possibly undermine the investigation. But upon thinking about it for a little longer, the idea suddenly became quite appealing. They could make sense of some of the clues, Norman would have a lot more to work with than before, and if nothing else it would serve as a gigantic middle finger to Carter Blake after all the ill-informing Blake had put him and Lauren through. And so, he smiled, the smile being just a little wicked.

"Say, Norman," he said. "You wouldn't be open to a note exchange, would you?"

The FBI agent rose one of his eyebrows as he contemplated this. Said contemplation took all of five seconds before he nodded. "Well, I'm pretty much dry on clues, so I might as well see what we can find," he replied "Do you have your clues somewhere?"

"My apartment," replied Scott as Lauren helped him stand. "I think I can drive us there."

"I don't know, Scott..." said Lauren, looking down sheepishly. "I kind of totaled your car trying to save your life..."

Scott rose an eyebrow at this, and against his will a small fury came up in him. The flames of this quickly died down, however, as he knew that going by her wording he probably would have died if she had not done... whatever it was she had done to his car. "Kind of?" he asked. "I'm not sure if it's possible to 'kind of' total a car. But you saved my life, so I think that's all that matters."

"We could always use my car," said Norman, gesturing out to the junkyard. "Just tell me where to go and we should be there fast."

Scott smiled and gave the FBI agent a nod as he looked on.

"All right," he said. "Let's head back to my apartment, and let's see what we've got."


	10. Chapter 9

Okay, welcome back.

Last time, Lauren kicked ass, saved Norman, and now he, her, and Scott have joined forces.

This time, they start to make major progresses on the Origami Killer case. You'll see.

* * *

Chapter 9: Cross Reference

The sun had set by the time they arrived back at Scott's apartment. Of course, the only indication they ever got of this was that the sky had darkened a little bit, the rain still falling.

Scott intensely disliked it, and the trek up the stairs to his apartment couldn't have been any shorter. When Scott opened the door to his apartment and turned the light on, Lauren and Norman both stepped in, the two of them leaving their coats hanging on the coat rack. Scott took off his own trenchcoat, taking the now-soaked book and shaking his head. As evidence, it was now virtually useless, given that it had fallen into the mud and most of the information he and Lauren had jotted down was no longer in there. He moved over and threw it into the trash as Norman and Lauren both sat on the couch.

As Scott came back, he saw Lauren and Norman sitting there, Lauren gesturing to the evidence.

_This will take a while..._ he thought.

He took a seat next to Lauren, and then gestured to the evidence.

"I see you have a lot here," said Norman. "More than I could possibly have hoped to get..."

Scott could only nod in agreement. "Yes," he said. "And I think we know more than I really want to remember..."

"Well, I have a few theories of my own about the killer," said the FBI agent. "I want to see if your evidence matches this."

"Of course," said Scott.

With this, the investigator walked him through every piece of evidence he had gotten. He started with the cell phone, seeing as that was the clue that brought a lot of things together and made the killer's motive apparent. By that time, Scott and Lauren had managed to find a way to charge the battery, and so they both showed Norman the video on the cell phone battery. This threw Norman off a little bit, but he was collected and calm even in the face of his shock.

He got over it rather quickly, though, and took to rubbing his chin. "So the child is kidnapped, and the father is sent on a run to do trials..." said Norman. "And then he's supposed to rescue the child."

"And that's where the shoebox comes in," continued Lauren, opening it after putting on latex gloves. "The shoebox has five origami figures. They lead to a trial, and the things we've seen..."

"You mean you've been to some of these trials?" asked the profiler.

"Yep," said Scott. "We went to two of them. One of them had the fathers crawl through a venthilation shaft that was filled with shattered glass before then forcing them to navigate a condenser maze to get a clue. And we were heading to another one when we shouted at Blake. That one had the father cut his finger off in front of a video screen. I'm afraid of what the other trials have, really."

Norman nodded at this, looking down at this as he pinched the bridge of his nose. After a few seconds of contemplation, he nods, looking to Lauren.

"Well, that seems to match some of what I've concluded during my investigation," he said. "A detail I see that is left out of the journalist's reports is that the killer covers the faces of his victims in mud. Makes them anonymous." The FBI agent nodded, leaning back on the couch as he did so. "I didn't think that detail made much sense. But now that I've seen this... It makes sense if he's testing the fathers' resolve. Every father that fails is another dead child, and the orchid and the origami figure are his ways of apologizing to the child."

"Personally, I think he sets his expectations too high," said Scott. "We saw a dead body in the condenser maze, and none of the fathers that went into the fire have ever come out alive."

"With how dangerous the first trial you went to sounds, I wouldn't be surprised," said Norman. "Did you encounter any actual deaths?"

Lauren nodded. "There was one man trapped in the condenser maze," said the mother. "He had been burned to death long before we got there. I took pictures of everything we saw at the condenser trial. I have them on my digital camera right now."

"Can I see them?" asked the profiler.

Lauren nodded, taking her camera out of her pocket and handing it to Norman. The profiler went through the library of pictures Lauren had taken, and frowned at each one. The first photo he saw of the body in the condenser maze disturbed him, but he had no time to dwell on it as he looked through every other picture. He kept a level of calm throughout, however, even as the shock slowly registered on his face. The investigator and the prostitute watched the man look at the photos, and when he was done, he placed the camera on the coffee table.

"I see..." said the profiler. "Have you gotten any other leads besides this?"

Scott and Lauren nodded in unison, looking over to the two lists. Lauren placed them in front of Norman.

"We found this," said the investigator. "Lauren gave me an envelope from a letter her husband had received when he vanished. We ended up going to the shops of two friends of mine, one to identify the typewriter that wrote the envelope's address, and another from the Origami shop in town. These are the two lists."

"Ah," said the profiler, rubbing his chin in thought. "Crossreferencing lists for a name. Did you get anything?"

They both nodded. "Whoever the Origami Killer is, he bought things under the name James Sheppard," said Scott. "It's an alias, of course; the real James Sheppard died when he was a child."

"That was pretty important," continued Lauren. "We went to the graveyard to follow up on it, and we found out that James Sheppard drowned in a ditch of rainwater on the construction site his family lived on."

Norman blinked. "It connects with the method of drowning the victims..." he commented. "What else surrounded his death?"

"He had a brother," said Scott. "He went straight to his father, but he was so drunk he refused to do anything. The man drank too much, you know? We think the brother might be the Origami Killer."

The FBI agent nodded his agreement as he leaned forward. "Your thinking is probably right," he said with a certain conviction. "The killer's resentment for his father probably defined who he was, and so he wanted to look for one father that would go to any lengths to save their son. Judging by the disappearances of the father and the dead body in Lauren's photo, it seems like it became more of a question of 'would they be able to survive his trails'. So yes, that explanation makes the most sense. Do you know where the brother is?"

"That's the problem," replied the prostitute. "There was a gravedigger there who told us the whole story. When we asked where he was, he mentioned that the brother had been adopted by another family, and since then nobody knows what happened to him. So we don't know..."

Norman contemplated something briefly, glancing around the apartment before crossing his arms. He looked over to them in silence, thinking of his next move.

Then, without so much as another word, one of his hands went straight to his breast pocket. He pulled out a strange black glove with silver-looking circuitry on it. As both investigator and prostitute looked on, Norman pulled the glove onto his right hand, testing it when he had put on the article before nodding. His hand went into his breast pocket again, and then he pulled out a pair of sunglasses.

"What are you doing?" asked Scott. "And why are you wearing sunglasses in the evening?"

"These aren't just any ordinary sunglasses," said Norman as he put on the glasses. "This is ARI. It's a prototype investigation tool that's only available to the FBI at the moment. It keeps track of evidence in a case, records voice memos, analyzes evidence and cross-checks it with anything that may help in the case, and gives me access to various databases to help me follow on a lead. And it helps revamp old office spaces."

Lauren frowned. "Bullshit!" said the mother. "There's no way in hell that's possible!"

Scott rose one of his eyebrows before Norman gave her a look. Unceremoniously, he took off the sunglasses, holding them out to Lauren. "See for yourself," he said, a small smirk coming to his lips.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Lauren took the glasses in her hands. Looking at them strangely, she blinked, wondering what these small glasses would do when she put them on. When she finally did, she seemed to jump back a mile, her mouth hanging open in shock. Scott leaned forward, concerned as she looked around. She instantly took the glasses off again, put them back on, and then handed them back to Norman.

"I... I see..." she said. "Well, I can brag that I've been to Mars now."

Scott tensed instantly, looking over to the prostitute as if she was just a little bit crazy. Norman simply put on the glasses, and his attention very slowly sifted back to the profiler.

"Point being, I can access a database anywhere, any time," said Norman as his hands took various positions in the air. "I can probably access Child Services here, see if we can find James Sheppard's brother. See what happened."

"I'm sure you'll forgive me if I don't buy it at first," said the investigator as he crossed his arms.

"Can't say I blame you there," says Norman. "A lot of people can't believe it when they first see it. But I assure you, it's real."

The other two occupants of the room both rose their eyebrows as they looked at Norman. "I see..." said Scott. "That would help a lot. Do it."

Norman simply nodded. He then proceeded to wave his hands in the air around very quickly. The action came off as strange for Scott, but judging by Lauren's action Scott guessed that it was legitimate. And so, he looked at Norman waving his hands around in the air calmly. A few vocalizations from Norman were the only clues that he was working hard, and to Scott the whole enterprise looked ridiculously silly.

_I wonder how the other guys on the force react to this,_ he thought briefly.

Finally, however, Norman smiled, and kept his hands up in the air.

"I got something," he said, almost triumphantly.

"Really?" asked Lauren. "What's the man's name?"

Norman nodded. "His name is Simon Sheppard," replied the profiler. "Well... it was, before he was adopted."

Scott nodded. "Simon..." he said, holding his hands out in front of him. "Do your glasses have any data on him?"

"As a matter of fact, they do," he said, waving his hands out a little more. He looks around the room, and nods. "His description matches what you have on James Sheppard. Grew up on a construction site. It was owned by Gideon Kramer, apparently."

The investigator knew from that point on that Norman was telling the truth, as it was the first of Kramer that had been mentioned in the few hours they had known each other. "Yes, it was," he replied. "The gravedigger told us that Kramer comes across the grave all the time. He feels like it's his responsibility."

"Does he?" asked Norman. "I think it's a little strange that Kramer would take to pitying James Sheppard."

"It was his construction site," pointed out the prostitute. "He could have done a lot to make sure it was safe for the children."

"Still, I don't know," said Norman. "Anyhow... After James died, his father was found to be unfit, and he went into the foster care system. He eventually ended up at the residence of one John and Ashley Williams. After that, his name became Simon Williams."

Lauren's eyes darted down, rubbing her chin. "Ashley Williams?" she asked. "I feel like I've heard her name somewhere..."

"It's probably not to important..." said Norman as his gloved hand pointed in the air and seemed to head downwards in the air. "Anyway, Simon ended up going to school, getting a proper education... He even got a BA in Criminal Science. After that, he goes off the records... And then he appears in the NYPD's records as being a forensic scientist there."

Scott and Lauren both blinked at this, the investigator's mind already starting to work. "It seems like he would be the standard model of the American dream," continued Norman. "But this is where it gets wierd. A little over four years ago, he disappeared from New York. No letter of resignation from the NYPD, no goodbyes, no telephone calls, no apartments full of stuff, nothing. Essentially, he vanished."

He nodded as Scott came to a conclusion. Suddenly, the investigator shook his head as Norman glanced over to where Scott sat. "Damn it..." he muttered to himself, holding his head in his hands. "_Damn it..._"

Lauren stood up, walking over to the investigator's side. "Scott?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

Before Lauren could navigate around the coffee table, however, Scott pounded the armrest of his chair with a clenched fist, his teeth bared in anger as a low growl emanated from his throat. The prostitute paused in her journey, and Norman jumped from the surprise of seeing the investigator lose his cool like this. After a few seconds, Scott stood up and walked around the apartment.

"He knows how police departments work!" he exclaimed. "And now he's using that against us! He... He knew we were ineffective! I kept on telling Perry to change the way he recruited! And now we're paying for it because he... he knows, and... And... Damn it!"

Lauren approached the raging inspector as he was walking around in a defeated pose. A soft hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his anger, and then he looked down to Lauren, who looked over to him with reassuring eyes. Their eyes met, and Scott could see the tenderness in her eyes.

Neither one said anything as the former cop's shoulders dropped slightly. He let out a small breath through his nose, blinking as he looked over to Lauren. His gaze eventually averted to the floor, but Lauren's hand did not leave from its place on his shoulder. He nodded, looking over to the prostitute again as she stood there, her posture relaxed and her face caring as she looked to the inspector. They both wanted to say something, but neither could form adequate enough words to describe their emotions.

After a long silence, Lauren let go, and then looked over to Scott. He nodded slowly as he relaxed more. "No point in dwelling on what's past, I guess," he said. "Either way, this is bad for us."

Norman nodded as he stood up. They both looked to him as he stood.

"It fits within the Origami Killer's timeline," said the profiler. "He disappeared a full year and then some before the killings started. That would give him plenty of time to prepare each of these trials and settle into the area. And then, the killings start soon enough. Add his Criminal Science degree into the mix, and that would further explain why ARI hasn't been picking up DNA examples of the killer at the scenes where we find the boys. And he uses abandoned places to host his trials."

Lauren and Scott both looked over to Norman before raising their eyebrows. "Hm..." said the investigator. "We haven't been to every single trial... That's the thing..."

Norman nodded at this, looking down at the box. "I see," he said. "I guess we could get started on that. Do you mind opening some figures?"

The two investigators turned to each other. Their agreement was flashed in their eyes as they both nodded to Norman. "Suit yourself," said Lauren, still in her latex gloves as she knelt down and picked up the three remaining Origami figures. She looked to each of them, raising one of her eyebrows as her fingers counted each figure once, twice, three times. Her finger finally settled on a shark-shaped figure, and then she picked it up and opened it quickly. She handed the object to Norman, who took it in his gloved hand. The FBI agent read the figure, but was astonished by one thing.

"Are you prepared to kill someone to save your son?" he asked out loud.

At this, Scott and Lauren both jumped in shock. "What?" asked the private investigator.

Norman blinked before setting the Origami figure down. ARI had already logged the address, now it was only a matter of figuring out what it was. "I don't think I like where this is going..."

The man then waved his hands in the air, but to Norman, he was busy going through a database, looking for the address that was stated on the paper. There was much scrolling on the surface of Mars as he did so, and for a second he thought he noticed the atmosphere getting more harsh as he went on. Shrugging it away, he eventually found the address, and pulled up information on it.

"Hm..." said Norman. "The property is already owned and lived on. Not quite abandoned like that power plant you mentioned and the apartment on Marble Street." His eyes trailed to the address as he analyzed the evidence. "The property belongs to Brad Silver. I'm guessing the killer wants the father to go to his home to kill him..."

Lauren and Scott both looked to each other, the shock on their faces evident. "Oh no..." said Lauren. "So Mr. Mars has to kill someone to save his son..."

"It gets better," Norman replied as he looked at the rest of the information. "According to police databases, Brad Silver is a suspected drug dealer. On top of that, he has two daughters. The father really has to make a serious choice on the matter, I can tell you that much. If Ethan Mars has already run into Brad Silver, I suspect he'll still be feeling guilt no matter which choice he makes."

"Well... that explains the handgun," said Lauren. "I was wondering what it was doing there this entire time..."

There were other things on Scott's mind, however. "Ethan?" he asked. "That's the father's name?"

Norman nodded. "Yes," he replied. "He's been all over the news. Blake thinks he's the suspect, but his psych profile doesn't match, and honestly I think Simon Sheppard's profile matches more. Anyway, we should get going. What's within the bear figure?"

Lauren unceremoniously opened it. But before she could hand it to Norman, a card fell out, and this surprised everyone in the room. Norman leaned close, looking at the card in surprise as everyone beheld it strangely. After a few seconds of looking at the card, Norman gently took the address out of Lauren's hand and looked at it. He glanced at the address for a second before waving his arms around again after ARI stored the address. He had already figured it out, though, and he began speaking as he moved to cross-reference the information.

"This is an address to a parking garage..." said the profiler.

"A parking garage?" asked Lauren. "Why would the killer send the fathers to a parking garage?"

"I don't know," said Norman as he pulled up the address from the database. "But I think I might know what he intended to have them do..."

"Really?" asked Scott. "What?"

The profiler shrugged. "The police got a distress call yesterday pretty close to noon," said the profiler. "There was a man who was driving on the wrong side of the highway for no apparent reason. He even crashed right through a toll booth before the police were able to get his car off-road. When they did, he was nowhere to be found, though. But... if I can check the transaction history..."

Norman's hands waved about as he scrolled down the shop's transaction history, finding what he was looking for. He smiled. "There," he said. "The car that the man who was driving on the wrong side of the highway was using came from the garage. I think we know who was in there and why he was in there now."

Scott let out a rather long puff of air as he crossed his arms. "These trials are getting worse the more I hear about them..." Scott commented. "Does this guy expect every father to be like Superman or something?"

"I guess," replied Norman. "This leaves the rat figure..."

Lauren nodded and unfolded the figure. She handed it to Norman quickly, and he scanned the address. His hands waved around in the air for a few seconds longer as he searched through the database again, mostly to see where the address was. He finally found a match, but was still partially confused.

"This property is owned privately," he said. "And I mean he bought the place. He doesn't pay rent on it. He must've been a real penny pincher when he was in the NYPD to get that place and to be able to afford leaving the car in that garage. Possibly also wherever he has Shaun Mars. And maybe something else..."

"We used to have some kind of accounting book," said Scott. "He was paying people off. I don't really know why, but when I confronted Jack he said something about not wanting to go to jail..."

"Maybe he was paying them off in return for a favor and protection from the law..." said Lauren. "It's not uncommon for some people to do that. And since he was from the NYPD, he probably had a spare police uniform lying around to fool them into thinking he was an actual police officer..."

"It sounds like a plausible lead at any rate," commented Norman. "If he does have a spare police uniform, it would also explain why the children vanish in sight; to the untrained eye, the kid is going to the police station. But to the victim and the killer..."

The implications of this sunk in, and Scott and Lauren were both dumbfounded at how far they had gotten in terms of evidence thanks to a single brainstorm with the FBI profiler.

The man nodded, taking the sunglasses off as ARI depowered. As Norman took off his glove, he looked to Scott and Lauren. "Well... that sure was a lot of information to take in," he said.

"Yes," said Scott. "Well, we have a name. Simon Williams, A.K.A. Simon Sheppard. Only thing to figure out now is where the hell is he?"

Lauren looked to the profiler, but before she could say something, she noticed that something seemed... off about the profiler.

"Norman?" she asked. "Are you all right?"

Norman made no reply as he stood, his eyes widening in shock.

It was when his nose began to bleed for no apparent reason that they both realized something was terribly wrong.

"Oh, shit!"

Almost without thinking, Lauren rushed into the kitchen to grab something to stop the nosebleed. She narrowly crashed into Scott as he lumbered over, noticing Norman sway slightly. The fat man quickly grabbed Norman, the man's arms flailing about. Scott struggled to keep Norman still as he started to sway violently, even with the investigator holding him. The profiler's face was unnaturally pale as Scott held him in place.

Lauren rushed out of the kitchen, holding some paper towels as she rushed in, the roll falling to the floor behind her. Quickly she wiped the blood that was flowing down his face before pinching his nose as quickly as she could. However, this turned out not to be so good, as the blood soaked through every towel. Lauren found she had to fight against Norman to keep the paper towel in place long enough for the blood to coagulate, and so she found herself doing her best not to accidentally break his nose. Scott found himself fighting to make sure he stayed upright long enough for her to do so, and the next minute or so went like a blur.

And eventually, Norman Jayden ended up falling over, such that Scott ended up being shocked at how heavy the profiler was. Slowly, and with great care, Scott laid the FBI agent on the couch, the man sprawled out as he seemed to faint on the couch. His breathing came in gently, but his face was still incredibly pale and Lauren was still pinching his nose to stop the bleeding. Finally, she was met with some success, and she pulled away from the profiler as he lay unconscious on the couch.

Scott was panting by the time the ordeal was over, and so he looked straight to Lauren, eyebrows raised as his mouth hung open.

"What the hell was that all about?" he asked.

"I don't know," said Lauren. "That really came out of nowhere. Is this how Mad Jack managed to get him?"

The investigator shook his head, crossing his arms. "I don't think Jackson had anything to do with this," he said. "I'm asking him when he wakes up no matter what."

Lauren looked at the investigator with small trepidation. "And if you don't like the answer?" she asked.

Scott shook his head. "By now, we don't have much time," he replied. "Whatever that answer is, we don't have time to deal with it."

Lauren could only nod her agreement, and with this, they both ended up waiting for Norman to wake up.

* * *

An hour had passed before Norman finally woke up. He stirred slightly, and then sat up. Scott was already alert when the FBI agent woke up, and Lauren simply sat in the chair behind the desk. Scott hadn't objected, so she simply sat there waiting for Norman to wake up.

The agent rubbed his head as soon as he was sitting upright, and Scott and Lauren both gave him rather inquisitive looks. The mother leaned against the desk, holding her hands in front of her as Norman looked over at the clock. He rubbed his eyes one last time, his mouth hanging slightly open before he took in a deep breath.

"I was out for an hour?" he asked.

Scott nodded, almost as if he had been anticipating the question.

"Fuck..." muttered Norman in reply, shaking his head. He was quiet for a few seconds before looking over to the private investigator and then to the prostitute. "I guess you'll want some explanation for why I just passed out after a nosebleed."

Lauren shifted where she sat, the chair creaking under her as she moved. "We just want to be sure you won't faint like that while we're trying to find the Origami Killer," she said. "Now what happened?"

The profiler nodded, leaning forward and placing an elbow on his knee. He looked to them both before nodding. "Well, first, let me establish something," said Norman. "I understand your point, but this is top-secret information I am about to give out. So for future reference, I never told you this."

Scott and Lauren both gave each other a brief glance. With a single nod, they both agreed to Norman's conditions as Scott turned back to face the FBI agent. "All right," he said. "What is it...?"

Norman gestured to his breast pocket callously. "ARI can be pretty handy," he began. "But if you use it for too long, it starts messing with your head..."

Lauren blinked, sitting up as Scott began processing this in his mind. "You mean it acts like some kind of drug?" she asks.

He nodded, biting on his lower lip as he looked back to Scott. "Essentially, yes," he replied. "Our scientists still haven't figured out why it happens. All I know is that if I overuse ARI I could put myself in great danger..."

Scott nodded. "And they don't have any way to counter it?" he asked.

Norman fished into one of his pockets at this question. He pulled out a small vial with something blue in it. Lauren reared back, her face contorting in surprise as she leaned back from the chair. The investigator rose an eyebrow, not sure what this meant.

"Is that triptocaine?" she asked.

Scott jolted slightly, looking at Norman. "Triptocaine?" he asked. "Fighting off a drug with another drug?"

Norman nodded quietly at this. "It helps," he replied. "It counteracts the effects of ARI long enough for me to do things. I really, really hate admitting it, but it helps. But... I try not to use it. But lately... the need has just been getting stronger..."

"Drug problem?" asked Scott.

The profiler hesitated breifly, and in the silence the investigator got his answer. It didn't stop Norman from nodding however. "I keep on telling myself not to take the tripto..." he commented. "Usually if I find somewhere to wash my face I can get beyond the effects just fine. But I've been using ARI so much lately that the temptation's just been getting too strong... I'm gonna kill myself sometime, I know it... And I'm afraid that when the time comes I'm not going to have the control I need..."

By this time, Norman had bent in on himself, holding the vial of triptocaine in his hands as he looked down at the ground. His expression was rather sullen, and Scott could tell that this was the first time the profiler had broken this to anyone. Lauren sensed it to, and stayed in her seat waiting for Scott to make the next move.

And when the investigator moved, he changed places so that he was sitting next to Norman on the couch. "Hey," said Scott, sounding as friendly as he could manage. "Take it easy on yourself. Don't use ARI anymore; it's already done more than enough for us now. And we're not going to mention this to anyone. Right, Lauren?"

The prostitute took the hint of playfullness in the investigator's voice, and licked her lips briefly. "Mention what?" she asked, making it obvious with her voice that she knew what she was talking about.

Norman nodded, looking at the both of them. "Thanks," he said. "I don't want my superiors yelling at me for telling people top-secret information. Or finding out I have a drug problem."

They both nodded, and all was silent in the investigator's apartment for a brief period of time. Scott stood up and looked over to the clock. "Well," he said. "With that out of the way... what should we do about the Origami Killer?"

Norman looked over to his two new partners before nodding. "Well, we know who is behind the killings..." he began. "But we don't know where he is. We need to find out where he is somehow..."

Lauren looked over to the two men before rising. "What about Gideon Kramer?" she asked.

Both men turned to the prostitute, their eyes widening slightly. They glanced at each other before looking to her.

"Are you sure about that?" asked Norman. "He's very powerful. I heard them talking about Kramer when I first came to the police station here. Apparently, people that have messed with him have never resurfaced. I think he likes making people disappear if they probe too far into his personal life. And what do we have...?"

"Well, Mr. Kramer owned the site that James Sheppard was killed on, right?" asked the prostitute. "And if memory serves me correctly, the gravedigger said he visited James Sheppard's grave all the time. So maybe Gideon knows something about where Simon Sheppard is?"

There was a brief pause as this conclusion sunk in. Scott and Norman both looked at each other before nodding. "Of course," said Scott. "If we can figure out if Gideon knows something, then we could find this man, and possibly where he's keeping Shaun!"

Norman nodded at this conclusion. "We could also ask his son Gordi," added the profiler. "He hosts parties at his family's estate every night. From what I hear, they're insanely wild, and anyone can come. If we can ask Gordi if he knows anything about Simon, it might help us get a clearer picture of where Simon is, and where Shaun is being held."

"What, at the same time?" asked Scott.

"We don't have much choice," said Norman, looking to the investigator. "I'll drive us all over to the estate, one or both of you can stay behind to question Gordi, and then I'll figure out where Gideon is and I can go there. If worse comes to worse, whoever is left at Gordi's can call a cab back here. Once we both arrive here, we can check our information, and if worst comes to worst we can switch the people we question tomorrow morning."

Scott nodded his agreement upon hearing the plan. "Shaun has less than 24 hours if what you're saying is correct," said Scott. "If this is our plan, we better act fast. It's not much, but it's the only place we can go right now."

Lauren nodded at this, standing up from the desk as Norman did the same. Scott grabbed his trench coat, and nodded to Norman.

"I hope you've got some kind of invitation to this party," said the investigator as Lauren grabbed her coat and put it on.

The profiler nodded. "Don't worry, I've got it covered."

And with this, the three of them left the apartment, hoping to look into the Kramer family to see if they knew anything about Simon Sheppard.


	11. Chapter 10

Jesus Christ... I think Mass Vexations took over my life.

But anyway, we're back with this now, so let's hope I can update this a little more consistently.

Either way, last time we came to an agreement on Norman's end. Fun times abound with that. This time, we finally get to that one station we missed all those chapters ago; namely, the Kramers. You'll see... ;)

Anyway, here we go.

* * *

Chapter 10: Gordi Kramer

Scott drove the car, with Lauren and Norman sitting in the back while Lauren made sure Norman would be aware enough to drive the car by the time they arrived at the Kramer residence. Scott simply drove forward, knowing to look for an expensive house somewhere.

As they drove on in the incessant rain, Scott felt obliged to make conversation with Norman to help bring him back to the real world. And so, as he turned his blinker on, he glanced back at Norman through the rear-view mirror.

"So, how's it working over here in Philly?" asked the private investigator.

Norman shrugged at this. "It's ridiculous," he said. "I've seen so much rainwater here I hope I never have to come here for a case like this again..."

"It's only bad in the fall," replied Lauren as she glanced outside. "It's usually much better every other time of the year."

"I see..." said the profiler as he looked out the window. "We need to get Shawn Mars to the hospital as soon as we find him. If we find him..."

Lauren shook her head. "We'll find him," she said, her voice filled with a certain conviction. "We've got a lot more than anybody else on this investigation ever has."

"Lauren's right about that," said Scott as he pulled up to a rather large house. "We'll catch this guy, Norman. And then we'll make sure he pays for what he did to these children."

The profiler simply nodded at this, and then looked over to the house. "Well, there it is," he said. "The Kramer residence is right in front of us. Here." He fished through his breast pocket and pulled out an invitation. "You might want to take that. It'll get you in."

"Of course..." said Scott. "You feeling up to driving?"

"Yeah," said Norman. "I'm feeling much better now. I'll go talk to Gideon and I'll meet you back here, right?"

"That's the plan," replied Lauren as she stepped out of the vehicle. "What happens if you're behind?"

"Find a way back to the apartment," said the FBI agent. "If I don't find you here, I'll head back there so we can compare notes. And if you don't see me when you wake up tomorrow morning, assume that shit has hit the fan and you'll have to carry on without me."

"Got it," said the private investigator, nodding to Norman.

Scott stepped out of the car, followed by Norman. The FBI agent went to the front of the car and sat in the driver's seat, nodding to Scott. "Good luck, Norman," said the investigator.

"You too," replied Norman. "Be careful in there!"

With this, Norman shut the door and turned the gears of the car. He very slowly drove the car away, and while Scott worried for a second the car remained steady on the road. And so Norman drove away, leaving Scott and Lauren to investigate the Kramer house.

With this, Scott and Lauren both turned to the gated house. It was grand, with many guards outside. From within Scott could see a multitude of colorful lights shining within the house, such that it was a little garish against the rain outside. The yard was obviously very drenched, but Scott had a feeling this would not matter. From the multitude of cars that were laying outside of the gates, Scott guessed it would be a very loud party, and instantly he felt his asthma act up from the mere thought of it. The guards looked indifferent in their ponchos, but Scott paid them no heed as he approached. When he did, he flashed Norman's invitation in front of the guards, who wordlessly opened the gate. As it opened, Lauren and Scott nodded at this.

As they walked up to the house, they looked at each other. "So what now?" she asked.

"We find Gordi and ask him," replied Scott. "And I want you to be there. You're the mother, and if you see something wrong with the way he's behaving we can use that when we get back together with Norman. Getting to him... You might have to leave that to me."

Lauren nodded, holding her arms together. "You'll be careful, right?"

The investigator nodded. "Of course," he said. "Careful is my middle name."

"It didn't help that much with Jack," replied Lauren.

"True," commented Scott. "But it'll probably work better with Gordi here. Unless he calls his security, it won't be too much of a problem. I'm just hoping we can get in and get out with a reasonable amount of answers."

"So do I," said the mother. "We're so close now... I hope this lead helps us."

Scott was silent for about a second as they came under an awning in the driveway. He looked back to Lauren, cracking a soft smile. "It will," he says. "One way or another."

And the two of them walked up to the double doors that were at the entrance of the house. They looked to each other, looking for some reassurance that they could do this. And they found the assurance to do what needed to be done in each other's eyes. And this was good enough for both of them; they had been through a lot together, and from that point on they would do whatever it took to bring the killer to justice; and they would do it together.

With a slight nod, the two of them entered through the doors. As soon as they stepped inside, they were greeted by both a monumentally loud blast of techno music and the thick musk of marijuana in the air. This combined sensation caused Lauren and Scott to cringe at exactly the same time, but the two of them simply looked to each other before progressing on into the house. The mother's hands instinctively went to her ears, attempting to block out the noise.

The two of them advanced into the house, and as they moved they couldn't help but be a little alarmed at how everyone in the party was behaving. People were either making out wantonly on the many couches in the house, dancing drunkenly, or otherwise gallivanting about without any real purpose for doing so. Lauren looked around her eyes going wide as slowly her ears got used to the sheer volume of the music. She turned to Scott.

"Some party, huh?" she shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Yeah!" Scott screamed back, fighting against the volume of the music. "We should probably see where Gordi is!"

The two of them advanced into the house, past the swirling bodies and the stench of alcohol and sweat and marijuana. It took them a while, but they finally saw someone who didn't seem so badly off in terms of partying. She looked to be perfectly all right, if a bit buzzed, but she seemed sober enough to answer. Her eyes were wide, however, and Scott had the feeling she was just reaching her high. The investigator turned to the prostitute briefly before he looked down at the stranger and indicated her.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Do you know where I can find Gordi?"

The woman's torso moved to the beat as she regarded Scott and Lauren. With a dumb smile, she replied. "He's upstairs!" she shouts. "He never comes down to his own parties, and he doesn't let anyone near him!"

Lauren and Scott both frowned, looking at each other with confused looks on their faces. "What?" asked Lauren. "What kind of host isn't at his own party?"

"I don't know!" shouted the stranger in reply. "Why don't you go ask him?"

And with this, she resumed bouncing up and down on where she was seated. The two of them looked at each other before shaking their heads. They walked away from the stranger, examining the upper level of the house where it was visible from where they stood. They followed where they saw the architecture, and their eyes fell on a pair of guards presiding over an entryway to a set of stairs. Lauren and Scott both looked at them.

"I doubt they'll let us just go up to see Gordi," commented Scott loudly. "You got any ideas?"

Lauren looked around the party, seeing a man stumbling about. He was so far gone that the prostitute doubted he was still able to think clearly. She smirked evilly, and then looked to another man who looked to be in as bad a shape, if not worse. She looked to Scott.

"Get somewhere close," she shouted. "But not so close that they'll know something's up! I got this!"

With this, Scott raised his eyebrow, but did as he said, trusting that Lauren had the situation under control. But he stayed as close to Lauren as he could, in case something went wrong. With this, the prostitute approached the extremely drunken man. She got his attention by shouting something that Scott couldn't hear in the noise, but when Lauren started whispering into his ear Scott had a feeling he knew what she was inciting.

And indeed, when the man began lumbering towards someone else, Lauren winked at Scott. And before the investigator could throw a questioning glance, he saw the two men that were extremely out of it trading fisticuffs as only two drunk and high men could. They swung their fists wildly, but always missed their opponent. The man Lauren had talked to was the more avid of the two, but Scott was still quite surprised at this turn of events. The prostitute joined him quickly, and then Scott turned to where the guards were.

And sure enough, they saw the two guards leaving their station to stop the fight. Scott decided it was best not to linger, and so he and Lauren both shuffled past the opening where the guards had been to see a set of stairs. They quickly traversed it, looking behind them to make sure the guards hadn't caught on to Lauren's little bit of deceit. With this in mind, they quickly ascended the stairs, Lauren taking care not to stamp her feet on the stairway. Eventually, they made it to the second floor, well out of view of where the guards could have seen them enter. And then, they found themselves on a little balcony looking down at the party.

When they were both looking down on the party from above, they saw the guards were just finishing breaking up the fight. The two men were finally torn away from each other, and then the guards walked back to their posts, not noticing anything out of the ordinary. It was then that Lauren looked to Scott, nodding with a rather bright sparkle in her eye.

A playful smile came across his face as he looked at the prostitute. "Well, I didn't expect that," he said. "But still, I probably would've done the same thing in your shoes."

Lauren nodded. "I've dealt with clients that came to me drunk off their heads," she commented. "That's what you do sometimes if you really want to give them a good time."

Scott nodded at this before the two of them began walking towards a large set of double-doors right in the center of the room from where they were. "What did you tell him, anyway?"

Lauren's smirk could only be described as evil. "That the other man said that his mother was a whore who had AIDS," she said.

The expression on the investigator's face instantly paled, and then he looked down at Lauren, glancing out at the party below. "Remind me not to get on your bad side," he commented.

She shook her head. "You won't need to," she said. "You're already on my good side enough that I don't think you can get on my bad side."

Scott nodded at this. "The reassurance is nice," he said as they approached the double doors. "Let's go see about Gordi."

And with this, Scott entered the room, Lauren following behind as they beheld a rather spacious room.

When they entered, they found Gordi Kramer sitting on the couch, looking at an absolutely monstrous TV screen. Lauren frowned briefly at this as she entered behind Scott, the two of them entering the room to find a pair of lesbians making out on the couch an extremely short distance away from where Gordi was sitting. Scott frowned slightly at this, noting the less than perfect condition of the room.

Perhaps it was the cartoon that threw him off most, however; on the TV screen, there was a rather strange CGI cartoon playing about a chicken that got chased around by a whole bunch of chefs. The investigator found it a little bit disturbing that Gordi was watching the cartoon instead of attending his own party, but nevertheless the investigator knew something had to be done.

"Gordi Kramer?" asks the investigator.

The young man sat there, laughing his head off at the cartoon. He did not look as if he noticed Scott or Lauren's presence. The two of them frowned, stepping closer to the TV.

"Gordi Kramer?" reprised the detective a little louder this time.

"Sh!" Gordi was quick to silence them, pointing at the TV screen. "This is the best part!"

And then the chicken was seen rushing around the kitchen that the CGI cartoon took place in. After a brief amount of time, the chicken was thrown haphazardly across the room, landing right into a pot as it had just lost its head. At this, Gordi let out a long, singular laugh. Lauren simply shook her head at this, crossing her arms and frowning as she bit her lower lip.

"Gordi, we really don't have time for this," says Lauren forcefully. "We need to talk to you. Now."

Gordi finally acknowledged the two of them were there. It was immediately apparent from the way he looked at them that he was not too pleased with this arrangement. He sat in the chair, almost like a child would, and then frown and turned to the lesbians making out next to him.

"Both of you, out!" he barked forcefully, the two women looking back at Gordin in startled surprise. "I need to be alone."

With this, the two lesbians spared a brief glance at the two intruders before huffing in displeasure. They both stood up, giving dirisive looks to Scott and especially to Lauren as the two of them walked by them. Lauren felt an unshakable chill fly down her spine briefly, but she didn't have time to ponder on it as the two lesbians left soon after. When the door closed behind them, Scott and Lauren both turned their attention to the younger Kramer as he sat there. He turned briefly, looking at the two of them.

"What do you want?" he asked brusquely.

Lauren had to bite back the urge to reply with some snark of her own, although the fact that Scott had placed a hand on her shoulder helped. "I'm Scott Shelby," he says. "And this is my partner, Lauren Winter. We're here to investigate the Origami Killer case."

He turned to the two investigators, his expression indifferent. However, Lauren noticed that Gordi trembled slightly where he sat, and this only caused her expression to furrow slightly. The small man turned to face them, but his face betrayed nothing.

"I have nothing to do with that case," says Gordi. His visage was stony, but his voice trembled slightly in something that Scott couldn't quite grasp. Whatever it was, he was definitely afraid of something. "I don't know why you're coming to me about this case. I had nothing to do with it."

"Really?" asks Scott, crossing his arms. "We have other evidence that points to you. And apart from that, I'm no longer on the police force, so I can't arrest you."

"So you can't arrest me again?" asked Gordi, his voice slightly malicious. "Good."

Scott blinked at this, not expecting Gordi's questioning to come up. Lauren was more taken aback, though as she looked at him. She knew it was best not to ask in the middle of the investigation, however, so she simply remained silent. _Good. At least she won't be asking questions yet._ The investigator simply shifted slightly.

"It doesn't have anything to do with that," says Scott. "But..."

"It was a misunderstanding..." he said, his voice beginning to shake a little bit. "My father called them, and he cleared it up. And now, here we are. I'm telling you, I had nothing to do with the Origami Killer."

He looked at them with an indifferent expression, but the slight trembling in his hand was noticed by even Scott now. The investigator rose an eyebrow upon seeing this behavior. _I'm not completely convinced about this..._ He looked down at Gordi, frowning slightly.

"I don't know," said Scott. "It'll take more than just saying that to convince me of your innocence. Besides, I'm not here because I think you did something. I'm here because you might know some_one_."

With this, the investigator stepped a little closer. "My investigation has pinned one man to be the Origami killer," said Scott. "His name is Simon Sheppard. I know your father had some assosciation with the Shepard family, particularly Simon."

Gordi nodded at this. "Yeah, we had assosciations with the Sheppards," commented the youth casually. "I don't think there's anything wrong with Simon, though."

"We have him as the most likely suspect in the Origami Killer case," replied Scott. "We'd like to know where he is. And after we get this piece of information, we won't be bothering you or your father anymore. I promise."

"Look, I... I don't know where he is," replied Gordi. The reply seemed very rushed to Lauren and Scott, and almost instantly they knew he was hiding something. They dared not say anything at all to this rushed reply, however. _It's probably better if we entreat to his other emotions._

With this in mind, the mother shifted her posture slightly as Scott did the same, tilting his head slightly.

"Look, we're trying to save other children that could get killed by this man," said the former cop. "I promise you, we're not here because we think you did something. Just, tell us if you-"

"I don't know where he is." The reply was exactly the same as it was last time, only more rushed and a slight amount more desperate. Lauren picked up on the desparation almost immediately, but she kept her facial expression in check. "Please, I don't know anything. Ask daddy for that..."

Lauren could hear footsteps behind her, and she turned her head behind her to see a trio of rather burly security guards coming up behind the two of them. She lightly tapped Scott's arm as the boy gave an ever more frightened look at Scott and Lauren. This prompted Scott to glance behind him out of the corner of his eye to see the security guards behind him. He nodded briefly to Lauren, who nodded back imperceptibly. _Well, we're on the same page about that.._.

"Now, I think you should be going," said Gordi as the guards advanced towards them. "If you don't have any more questions, that is?"

With this, one of the guards came forward and grabbed Lauren rather roughly.

With this prompting, Scott leapt into action. His hand came out, a fist striking against the one who had grabbed Lauren. The attacked stumbled back, letting go of Lauren as she pulled her arm away roughly.

With this, two of the guards came in and grabbed Scott by the arms, the investigator not sure what to do with this. However, Lauren made the decision for him as she ran to a small vase she had noticed just as Scott had been grabbed. She took a hold of the vase and threw it at one of Gordi's security, the vase shattering against his head as the guard that was hit let out a shout and stumbled back.

This gave Scott an ample opportunity to elbow him in the gut, the guard stumbling back over the couch and flipping over as his legs hit the back of it. The other guard was then roughly thrown by a single pull of Scott's arm. The guard lost his grip, stumbling forward as Lauren rushed in and tackled him to the ground.

The guard that was tackled to the ground thrashed about briefly, but the prostitute was quick to notice the nearby furniture. She grabbed a hold of a small little table that just so happened to be close by, and with all her strength she pulled the table down so that it crashed against the guard. The leg came right over his head, and Lauren managed to knock him out. Taking a deep breath in, all she heard was a punch before she turned her attention back to Scott.

The investigator was holding his own rather well against the small group of guards that had come in to escort them out. He had punched one away, and was now rushing for a guard who had pulled his gun out. In a few seconds, though, Scott had delivered a rather harsh chop to the guard's hand, which made him drop the side-arm rather quickly. Thinking quickly, Lauren grabbed the table she had just used to knock the guard out, tossing it at the guard that had been punched away. As Scott sent the guard flying over the couch and banging his head against the table, she whirled around, table in hand as Scott turned to the guard. With a well-timed release of the table, though, it sailed through the air, hitting the guard in the head. As he came down, Scott made sure to land some extra punishment with a punch to the throat.

The entire skirmish had only lasted a few seconds, but it had damaged Gordi's property a little bit. The guard that had flown over the couch from Scott's assault had broken a glass table with his head, and the shattered vase lay at Scott's feet as he looked at the ruins of the table from when one of its legs got knocked out by one collission too many with a man's head. Gordi sat there, his face showing he was absolutely thunderstruck at this turn of events.

Scott simply rubbed his hands on his trenchcoat. "Thank you, I think Lauren and I both know where the door is," he quipped. "Just so you know, we have a friend of ours talking to your father right now. So if we don't get it from you, we'll get it from him."

With this, the two of them exited Gordi's room, getting the hint that they had overstayed their welcome.

Lauren was getting pretty tired of the pounding bass that was just outside the room, anyhow.

* * *

They walked back out in the rain, realizing that they didn't have a ride back home as Norman hadn't arrived yet. This came as mildly disconcerting to both of them, but they knew that if Norman had been delayed there was nothing they could do about it. So Scott ended up having to call a cab to get them out of there, and the cab had arrived and taken them back to Scott's apartment. They had entered it, with Lauren now pacing around the couch as Scott brewed a cup of coffee for himself in the kitchen. It was taking unusually long for the coffee to come to a boil that night, but Scott had a feeling it might have had to do with the brew, which he understood from Lauren was pretty subpar.

He simply shrugged, taking a cup of the stuff anyway and stepping back as Lauren sat on the couch around where the coffee table was shaking her head. She bit her lower lip, and then brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

Scott could instantly tell the problem. "It's Gordi, isn't it?" he asked.

"He just..." Lauren shook her head. "He was hiding something. That much is for sure."

"I think we could all tell that." Scott sat down on the main couch, nodding to Lauren with a pursed lip. "Is there something about it that's bothering you?"

Lauren let out a sigh, closing her eyes. "When... When Johnny was still alive..." Scott's eyes instantly widened as he looked at the woman. "He used to play with this group of people at the park."

"Whoah," said Scott, holding up his hand. "That sounds like very personal stuff."

"It's not that personal," replied Lauren as she crossed her arms. "And... it's just relevant to my feeling in this case. Call it motherly intuition if you will... but..." She shook her head. "One day, he came home bruised from something. He said he had tripped on something, but Peter never believed it. And he kept on coming home..." She closed here eyes, biting her lower lip. "We eventually found out that he had been being bullied. I did my best to comfort Johnny, but Peter went and beat up those bullies badly..."

She let out a soft sigh. "Johnny came home every day while he was being bullied with this look on his face... like he was hiding something," she continued. "Like he wanted to tell me something important... but he was afraid to." She opened her eyes again, looking right at the person she had been working with for the past two days. "Scott... the look on Gordi's face when we spoke to him at the party was almost exactly like the one Johnny gave..."

"So he's being threatened with something," said Scott. "Meaning that he does know where Scott Shepard is."

"And that he's being threatened into not telling where he is..." added the mother. "He's close... We just need to know where to look."

"Indeed," said Scott with a shrug. "I... I don't like that he's being threatened."

"Should we see him again tomorrow?" asked Lauren.

The former cop glanced to the side, holding the coffee mug in his hand before taking a sip of the bitter fluid. Finally, he shook his head. "That was our chance," said the investigator. "We'll just have to hope Norman's investigation turned up something. Because that's-"

Before he could finish his sentence, though, he suddenly heard a loud banging. "_Scott, let me in!_" a voice shouted frantically as he banged on the door again.

Scott nearly dropped his coffee in surprise, Lauren jolting slightly at the sound of the distraught voice. Quickly, Scott set his coffee down, not seeming to care that some of it spilled onto the coffee table. But he stood up and rushed to the door, and as soon as he had unlocked it and closed the door Norman came rushing in, looking like he had just run a marathon as he was wheezing very quickly. Scott quickly closed the door, locking it behind him as Lauren stood up. She guided him to a couch as Norman began to pant, looking at the two of them with disbelief in his face.

"Norman, are you all right?" asked Lauren.

"No, I'm not," he said, his eyes wide as he pulled the collar of his suit jacket close to himself. "I just had to run down a whole lot of city blocks in the hope that you where here. I've never run so far in my life." He shakes his head. "The fact that my nose was bleeding part of the way through didn't help, I guess."

The mother let out an exasperated sigh as Norman shook his head. "Why the hell were you running?" asked Scott.

"Gideon... It's a long story," said Norman. "But... to put it as simply as I can, he sort of brushed me off when I asked around. But he told me I shouldn't be looking into things I've got no business in..."

The investigator frowned at this new development. "Let me guess..." he said. "You found Simon Sheppard..."

"Yeah," replied the FBI agent. His expression was very morose, and he shook his head.

"But he's not where we're expecting him to be..."


End file.
